


SERENDIPITY

by bIackbird



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Angst, Character Death, Death Eaters, Enemies to Friends to Lovers, Explicit Language, Explicit Sexual Content, F/M, Light-Hearted, Love/Hate, Minor Original Character(s), Missing Persons, Mystery, Not Canon Compliant, Original Character(s), Post-War, Quidditch, Romance, Slow Burn
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-01-26
Updated: 2021-02-16
Packaged: 2021-03-12 15:56:26
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 11
Words: 33,189
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28762947
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bIackbird/pseuds/bIackbird
Summary: Two years after the infamous Battle of Hogwarts and the subsequent defeat of Voldemort, the Wizarding World was still hesitant to trust former affiliates of the Dark Lord.Fred Weasley ⎯ infamous mischief maker and War Hero, was amongst those unable to shake his previously formed opinions. His opinions and ways were set in stone ⎯ or at least, they had been until he met Asteria Nott and his entire world was completely flipped on its axis.Asteria Nott ⎯ a pureblood witch who was anything but a reflection of her family name and the blood-purist ideals they once perpetuated. As a descendant of the fourth most wealthy Wizarding families, Asteria embodied aristocratic elegance without fault ⎯ though her opinions and beliefs had always been her own.Asteria showed him how to be trusting in a newly reformed world that was neither completely black nor white. Fred gifted her the freedom and simplicity of a life she'd had stripped from her during childhood.Together, they taught each other what it meant to love and be loved. Though it was far from easy.
Relationships: Fred Weasley/Original Female Character(s), Luna Lovegood/Blaise Zabini, Theodore Nott/Pansy Parkinson
Comments: 12
Kudos: 47





	1. ACT ONE ⎯⎯ Rough Waters

═══════════════════════

ACT ONE:

ROUGH WATERS

═══════════════════════

❝ The majority of dysfunctions that threaten and entrench life are built upon accusation and preconditioned assumptions. Assumptions that are structured and built upon a lack of condemning evidence and the damaging opinions one is preconditioned to believe. If only to be able to look deeply into one's heart and understand the unique challenges they, among many others, face **⎯** the world may yet become a much more gentle, tolerant, patient, and loving place. 

Her only hope was that one day, they'd be able to see that she tried. Even when she believed she couldn't. Even when everyone around her told her it wasn't possible. In spite of the world that threatened to drown her out. She tried.

. . . and he learned to listen. ❞


	2. ante

_═══════════════════════_

_❝it's deep in their bones, they'll ride  
_ _into smoke when the fire is fierce❞  
_ ━ Against The Current, Legends Never Die

 **  
  
**𝗣𝗥𝗢𝗟𝗢𝗚𝗨𝗘 **| _ante_** **  
** [𝘣𝘦𝘧𝘰𝘳𝘦]

_**in which she saves his life** _

═══════════════════════

Battle of Hogwarts ━━ May 2nd, **1998.**

Hogwarts, which had once been a safe space for all, was now a battlefield. Rogue spells - some hitting their marks and others adding to the destruction of the school - were thrown carelessly within the halls and surrounding areas.

Masses of rubble and crumbled rock littered the floor where several bodies were strewn about; the sickening amount of casualties - on both sides - high and dramatically rising. Had she been given the choice, Asteria Nott would've quite literally been anywhere else.

As it happens, being the middle child of Theodorus Nott - known and loyal follower of the Dark Lord - came with a hefty price. Though spared of the Dark Mark (through her own cowardice), Asteria was expected to uphold the indoctrinated ideals and values that had been infused within her childhood; she was expected to be a dedicated follower of the cause.

Asteria, however, had never been great at meeting expectations. Her magic would not be wielded in the name of Voldemort and his purist opinions. She would not be a part of his twisted venture of mass genocide. She refused.

Running down the seventh floor corridor, Asteria found herself caught up in several different vicious duels. The portraits hung on either side of the corridor were crammed with figures screaming threats and words of encouragement - unable to do much else as Death Eaters, both masked and unmasked, dueled students and teachers.

 _"Wingardium Leviosa!"_ Asteria called as she held her wand in the direction of a masked Death Eater that was closing in on Dean Thomas. The Death Eater rose into the air, his limbs flailing as he bellowed in rage and frustration.

Beside the witch, Draco Malfoy rose a quizzical brow, a look of utter bewilderment stretched upon his face. "Seriously, Nott?" the blonde eyed her incredulously, "we're in the middle of a war and you're using a _first_ year spell?"

Asteria gritted her teeth at the Malfoy teen, holding his stare with a challenging glint in her eyes as she kept the Death Eater suspended in the air. With the subtlest flick of her wrist, Asteria sent the masked follower crashing into the side of the corridor - a loud crunch emitting as his body fell into an uncomfortable position.

Draco smirked wickedly as he looked from the heap of limbs towards the elder witch, a look of pride replacing his usual scorn showing that he was clearly impressed. "I should've learnt by now to never underestimate you."

Asteria rolled her eyes, her expression flat as she eyed the blonde. "A common mistake. However, as you mentioned, Malfoy - we're in the middle of a war." Nodding to a group of approaching Death Eaters, the brunette tilted her head expectantly, "perhaps it's time you start acting like it."

Draco's face changed immediately as he span on the spot - his once determined, stoic expression replaced with one of fear as he threw his arms up in surrender. "Stop! I'm Draco Malfoy -" the boy cried out in anguish as the masked Death Eaters slowed to a stop, "I'm on your side."

 _"Malfoy?"_ one of the Death Eaters gaped as his masked eyes flickered between the blonde and the bored looking witch stood behind him, "Nott? What the bloody hell are you both doing hiding here - put yourselves to use!"

 _"Everte Statum!"_ Within mere seconds, the Death Eaters were sent flying into the wall behind them - forcibly knocked off their feet with the spell Draco had sent their way. With a flick of his wand, Draco wordlessly disarmed the three Death Eaters - grinning almost manically as their wands flew into his hands.

"How's that for putting myself to use?" the blonde teen retorted with a wicked smirk - both fearless and irritatingly arrogant. The Death Eaters snarled viciously as Draco twirled his wand in an amused manner. "You filthy blood-traitor! _You're dead!"_

Asteria watched the scene with an emotionless expression, her eyes flicking from the weighed down Death Eaters to the blonde teen standing over them grinning pridefully. "Are you done showing off?"

"Not yet," Draco replied in earnest as he smirked down at the struggling Death Eaters - toying with them as a snake would with a mouse. _"Incarcerous,"_ the Malfoy teen spoke, watching as ropes flew out of his wand and bound the Death Eaters to the wall behind them.

"Now I'm done," Malfoy grinned as he turned back to the older witch - and in spite of her previous irritation, Asteria couldn't fight the small smile of amusement that stretched across her lips.

With a smirk, the brunette turned, strutting fluidly down the corridor, expelling numerous Death Eaters with a flick of her wrist as she and Draco made their way to the staircase.

"Find Theo and Zabini," Asteria ordered the blonde just as a loud explosion sounded near them, her eyes catching sight of two redheads being surrounded by Death Eaters, "go! Stick together."

Draco stared at the brunette incredulously, his gaze aligning with hers. "You're going to risk your life to save a _Weasley?"_ the blonde muttered in disbelief, his grey eyes widening slightly in a mixture of disgust and shock.

Though he may not have agreed with Voldemort's psychotic ideals and didn't necessarily believe Muggle-borns were unworthy of their magic, there were lines even he still refused to cross. And risking his life for the sake of a _Weasley_ was one of them.

"Don't be a prick, Draco," the witch chastised with a stern expression. "Either take your snarky comments with you and find my _brother_ or help me end this fucking war." With a roll of his eyes, the blonde begrudgingly followed after the brunette just as Percy and Fred Weasley fell into view.

The two redheaded brothers fought side by side, expertly dueling a group of masked Death Eaters - completely oblivious to the two Slytherin's flanking their right side.

( Which, arguably, was a good thing considering the two wouldn't have hesitated to hex the pair, unknowing Asteria and Draco had been on their side since the very beginning ).

The dark sky - which was illuminated with every jinx and curse cast within the battle - gleamed hauntingly through a desolated part of the wall. The Dark Mark hung high and proud in the air - the symbol a marker of the sheer amount of death and blood that had been shed that night.

Racing down the right side of the corridor came Harry Potter, Hermione Granger, and Ron Weasley - each throwing hexes and jinxes at the four Death Eaters currently battling Percy and Fred as they made their way towards the staircase. All three pointedly ignoring the two Slytherins as they passed.

As jets of light flew in their direction, one of the Death Eaters backed off rather quickly - his mask falling to the cobbled stone below him as his expression showed one of fear. Percy cackled at the familiar sight, his expression twisting into one of pure amusement as he continued to duel by his younger brothers side.

"Hello, Minister!" the elder redhead bellowed, sending a neat jinx straight at Thicknesse who instantly dropped his wand - his hands clawing at the front of his robes in obvious discomfort - "did I mention I'm resigning?"

 _"Incendio!"_ Asteria called as she twisted her wand in the direction of one of the four Death Eaters, watching as a jet of fire shot out of the tip of her wand and encompassed the masked man in its flames.

"You're joking, Perce!" Fred stated as he turned towards his brother, both completely astounded and proud of his brothers unusual behaviour. A smile graced the redhead's lips - an expression of pure bewilderment and amusement displayed on his freckled face.

 _"Petrificus Totalus!"_ Draco bellowed as he and Asteria descended upon the Death Eaters crowding the Weasley brothers. The third Death Eater fell to the ground, his body stiff in a full body bind as his wand clattered to the ground.

"You actually are joking, Perce... I don't think I've heard you joke since you were..." Fred was unable to finish his sentence as a loud explosion sounded in the corridor - chunks of brick and rubble raining down as the opposite wall was blown into pieces.

Upon noticing Fred's diverted attention, the final remaining Death Eater smirked viciously behind his mask casting a quick _"Bombarda Maxima,"_ that blew the wall to smithereens and subsequently sent Percy, the Minister and Draco crashing into the floor beneath them.

 _"Protego Maxima!"_ Asteria cried as she flung herself in-front of the tall redhead - pushing him to the floor as the force field that emitted from her wand shielded them from the descending stone and rubble that would surely have crushed them both.

Asteria flinched, turning her head into Fred's chest as she braced herself for the impact that never came. Beneath her, Fred's eyes - dazed and confused as a result of the force his head hit the ground - searched for any sign of familiarity in his saviour.

However, unconsciousness hit him before he could find any and Asteria was back on her feet without a moment's hesitation.

Gripping her wand tightly, the brunette expertly dueled the final remaining Death Eater as she made her way desperately towards an unconcious Draco Malfoy - allowing Percy to tend to his brother who, thanks to the Slytherin witch was unconcious, yet still very much alive.


	3. detestari malum

**═══════════════════════**

_❝tripping in the world could be dangerous;  
_ _everybody circling its vulturous❞  
_ ⎯⎯ Imagine Dragons, Whatever It Takes

𝗖𝗛𝗔𝗣𝗧𝗘𝗥 𝗭𝗘𝗥𝗢 **| _detestari malum_  
** [𝘤𝘶𝘳𝘴𝘦 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘦𝘷𝘪𝘭]

_**in which the hypocrisy of the** __**Wizarding** _ _**World is revealed** _

**═══════════════════════**

May 2nd, 1998 saw the victorious end of the Second Wizarding War and the subsequent defeat of Voldemort. For months afterwards, numerous street festivals were held, with lavish firework displays celebrating the Wizarding World's victory.

Acclaimed War Heroes - namely, Harry Potter, Hermione Granger, and Ronald Weasley, had been awarded an Order of Merlin for their war efforts and triumphs. The Golden Trio had successfully lived up to the nickname they had been granted; becoming seemingly even more famous than they previously had been.

The end of the Second Wizarding War put an end to the ghastly, ill-mannered prejudices of Half-Bloods, Muggleborns, Squibs, Creatures, and Half-Breeds alike. Though, with a legacy of such deep rooted hatred, it was never going to be that easy to completely erase.

Prejudice and fear were two rather poignant issues that were far too hard to cure overnight. Only now, those prejudiced opinions were directed towards those who, thanks to age-old family legacies, had been raised on the wrong side of the war.

Those who were born into cold houses, taught to believe in the purity of their blood and preconditioned with vicious values and ideals. Those who were granted only one ultimatum - to join the cause, or to die.

Those who, unbeknownst to everyone, sought the courage to fight back in spite of everything for what _they_ believed in. The underdogs of the War who received no glory or gratitude, nor the freedom they'd so desperately hoped for.

Reformed Death Eaters, who had been forced into bearing the Dark Mark through no choice of their own, were shunned and discriminated against in every aspect of their 'newly liberated' lives. The families of known, loyal followers - whilst proven to have had no direct involvement in the war themselves, were treat just as badly.

Even those who had been exonerated, namely Draco Malfoy whose identity as a spy for the Order of the Phoenix had been made public knowledge upon Voldemort's defeat, remained subjugated against. It didn't seem to matter that Draco, along with many other reformed Death Eaters, had been the ones to capture and defeat the majority of the Dark Lord's loyal followers - their own families included.

It had become a great struggle for anyone with a link to the Dark Lord to acquire a firm standing within society. Their properties, lands, and Gringotts vaults had been seized upon Voldemort's defeat - ransacked for any lingering Dark Objects and used to pay for the rebuilding of society.

Prejudice and fear made it hard for them to acquire a decent career, forcing them to flee the Wizarding World or face the crippling effects of poverty. Not to mention that so many of them were struggling mentally to cope with the Mark that still continued to poison their blood.

They were the forgotten in a world that didn't want to see them acknowledged. A world that didn't want to see them helped or given the opportunity to be saved.

Asteria Nott, being a proud Slytherin, was no stranger to prejudiced opinions. During her entire schooling career, she had grown rather familiar to cautionary stares - having someone _always_ there, breathing down her neck to make sure she didn't put a single toe out of line.

At the age of 22, however, she had hoped that the lingering association to the house of emerald and silver and the evil legacy of her family name would've fizzled out at least a little bit. She was no more evil than Florean Fortescue - except _she_ didn't charge extensively for a single cone of vanilla ice-cream.

Having been one of the fortunate few to never bear the Dark Mark, Asteria had been able to secure a job within the Ministry. Though, that isn't to say the witch didn't have to fight to earn it, and _continue_ to fight against the loud opinions of others to prove she deserved it.

Asteria had worked in the International Magical Office of Law in the Department of International Magical Cooperation for the past year and a half; and she was damn good at it. Surprisingly, it was Percy Weasley, the new head of the Department, that had offered her the job - being the only one aware of the large debt his family owed her.

The witch now lived with her older sister, Hesita, above the quaint little Cafe the elder witch had opened a year after the War. Though born into the fourth most wealthy Wizarding families, Hestia refused to acknowledge anything to do with her family legacy - unlike her two younger siblings who had no issue with burning through their families money for no other reason but to spite them.

The 26 year old had spent the last 2 years attempting to rebuild her family's broken legacy into one they could all be proud of. To rewrite their history and become a family worth knowing in the Wizarding World for reasons other than cruelty, tyranny, and evil.

The Nott family's hope came in the form of six-year old Circe - who, in spite of being raised during the War, remained an everlasting beacon of light for the three Nott siblings. The child was the epitome of happiness and joy, spreading love and goodness wherever she went. _She_ was what they were rebuilding their legacy for.

Upon graduating Hogwarts, Hestia Nott had not returned home to the Nott Manor. Instead, she had kept herself hidden in the Scottish Highlands and created an entire new life for herself, free of her fathers tyranny. It was during that time she had fallen in love with Alistair Thomson - a _Muggle._

Circe Aurora Thomson-Nott had been born two years later. Alas, it hadn't been all that long after, that Theodorus caught wind of his daughter's hide-out. He had found her mere months after Circe's birth, slaughtering Alistair and subsequently putting an end to his daughter's _filthy_ love affair.

Circe would have been next had Hestia not pledged her allegiance to the Dark Lord and his malicious cause. Their younger brother, Theo, had been met with the same ultimatum - to take the Dark Mark or be forced to watch as his family were brutally discarded.

Though the boy had no love for his father, his sisters and niece were his only remaining life line. Theodore Nott had been branded with the Dark Mark that following summer at the mere age of 16 and had his freedom and childhood stolen from him as a result.

Theo now worked with Draco Malfoy in the Department of Magical Law Enforcement, ensuring old regulations and laws were revised and in most cases, revoked. He had also taken the Nott family seat in the Wizengamot -

( An outrage that had been plastered all over the front page of The Daily Prophet for six weeks until Asteria had stormed her way into the building, threatening with a malicious intent to reveal Rita Skeeter's illegal identity and shut down the paper should they not drop their obsession with her family)

and in his first two months, successfully fought against the complete seizure of reformed Death Eaters' possessions. The Wizengamot had relinquished their control of the Nott family's, (along with many others), Gringotts vaults, land, and Manor - of which, Asteria had burnt to the ground after one too many bottles of firewhiskey last year.

And yet, whilst more laws were being abolished and reformed, and more freedom was being granted - prejudice and fear still remained. So much so that within the past 7 months, multiple reformed Death Eaters had begun to go missing; a mystery the Ministry was not all that concerned with solving.

But Asteria would, even if it killed her in the process.


	4. resumptionem sine vis

**═══════════════════════**

_❝feels like i'm lost in a moment,  
_ _i'm always losing to win❞  
_ _⎯⎯_ Kasabian, Underdog

𝗖𝗛𝗔𝗣𝗧𝗘𝗥 𝗢𝗡𝗘 **| _resumptionem sine vis_  
** [𝘢𝘯 𝘶𝘯𝘸𝘢𝘯𝘵𝘦𝘥 𝘳𝘦𝘶𝘯𝘪𝘰𝘯]

_**in which she, quite literally, stumbles into him** _

**═══════════════════════**

Cafe Bonheur was a rather quaint, magical space tucked in between Madame Malkin's Robes for All Occasions and Potage's Cauldron Shop in Diagon Alley. The interior of the Cafe was decorated with various pieces of oak furniture - it's tables laden with black lanterns and enchanted candles.

The lights strung on the ceiling encompassed the interior of the cafe in a soft, warm glow - creating an electrifying buzz of magic, bringing indescribable comfort to all that entered. On the left side of the wall hung multiple photo frames depicting countless happy memories.

Vibrant green hanging plants were scattered around the cosy space as plush emerald green and silver cushions decorated the benches, paying homage to the most judged Hogwarts house. A cute black bell was situated right above the door, emitting an enchanting ring every time the oak door was pushed open.

For the most part, the quaint little cafe seemed displaced within the chaos of Diagon Alley. Had it not been for the moving pictures and the self-stirring drinks, one would easily have confused it as a simple Muggle cafe.

But that was the exact sense of abnormality that Hestia Nott had sought to achieve when she first opened Cafe Bonheur. Feeling displaced herself within the Wizarding World and the cruel legacy of her family name, Hestia had openly reflected her entire being in the interior of her cafe - hoping to create a place of comfort that offered all those who felt displaced a sense of normalcy.

And it had worked. Cafe Bonheur was always bustling with hoards of wizards and witches, both young and old. The atmosphere and warmth the small space exuded drew in an influx of customers on a daily basis - granted, most of those customers were either reformed Death Eaters or the fair few witches and wizards who didn't buy into the hysteria.

Besides, nobody in their right mind could resist Hestia Nott's infamous Cheesecake Bites.

There was a certain sense of happiness that seemed to encompass the cafe, leaving all that visited with a new sense of hopefulness and serenity - something that was eagerly sought after as the remnants of the Second Wizarding War fizzled out.

Asteria also believed that it didn't hurt having an adorable, always happy six-year-old running around the small space spreading joy as though she were a fairy. "Circe, darling, _please_ watch where you're going!"

Speaking of _witch._ "Auntie ViVi!" Asteria didn't bother to hide the smile that broke out on her face as a mass of blonde jumped into her arms the moment she entered the homely cafe. The brunette grinned as she bent slightly, reaching Circe's level so she could hug her back just as tightly.

"I hope you haven't caused too much mischief today, my little star," Asteria spoke with a small smirk, her left eyebrow raised as she looked at her niece knowingly. Had she not already been well aware of Circe's mischievous ways, the remnants of flour and eggs in her hair were enough to give her away.

"I only did what Uncle Theo told me to," Circe responded with a tone of innocence, shrugging her small shoulders to refute any blame for her actions. "Besides, I had to help mum again today - Callie never came."

Asteria furrowed her brows at the news as an unsettling feeling of concern flooded her. Had it not been for the fact that Calliope Davies was a reformed Death Eater, Asteria probably wouldn't have been concerned by her absence (pissed off, definitely - but not worried) - however, this was the fourth time that week the girl had neglected to show.

"Again?" Asteria asked as she stopped at the end of the oak counter, raising a questioning brow at her sister who was in the middle of serving a customer. "I sent her an owl this morning but she never replied," Hestia shrugged, handing the man his change. The dark haired witch sighed wiping the flour from her forehead with the edge of her sleeve - looking as exhausted as Asteria felt after a dull day at the Ministry.

"How many calories are in these?" Asteria turned her concerned gaze from her sister towards the elderly woman standing behind the counter, a small grin forming on her lips. "Those are 180 Mrs Tomlin," Hestia replied with a kind smile as the familiar witch pointed towards Hestia's infamous Cheesecake Bites.

"Ooh, those are 200," Asteria winced in a joking manner as Mrs Tomlin moved her finger towards Hestia's 'Indulgent Molten Cauldron Cakes' causing the old woman to frown. Mrs Tomlin had been a regular at the cafe since the day it opened, having fallen victim to the deliciousness of Hestia's handmade treats.

In recent months, the old witch had begun to be more cautious of her weight - though that didn't stop her from stumbling into Hestia's cafe from time to time. "Although, I did hear that eating them stood up knocks off about 80 calories," Asteria added in a whisper, winking at the witch as though the information was top secret.

Mrs Tomlin, obviously feeling much better about her desired treat, grinned as she looked towards Hestia, "I'll take 5!" Asteria grinned, a small chuckle leaving her lips as she made her way into the back kitchens.

The witch had only managed to nab herself one of Hestia's homemade cinnamon cookies before the aforementioned witch entered the kitchens, scowling at her younger sister for stealing the ' _merchandise.'_

"Where's Winnie?" Asteria asked through a mouthful of crumbs, completely unaffected by her sister's glare. Hestia sighed at her sister's lack of manners, rolling her eyes as she placed an empty tray in the sink where it began to clean itself.

"I sent her over to Theo's - she wasn't very happy about it." Asteria could only imagine the fight that had no doubt broken out as a result.

Winnie was unlike most house elves in the Wizarding World. She had been Asteria's mothers, passed down the Greengrass line, and thus, had been passed straight to Hestia upon their mother's death. Having been never under the servitude of their wicked father, Winnie had never faced any type of cruelty or abuse.

In fact, the only torture the House Elf had ever been forced to endure was the fact that _none_ of the three Nott siblings ever gave her any tasks to do. House Elves lived to serve - a fact that Hestia, Asteria, and Theo found incredibly cruel and thus refused to allow the elf to do _anything_ for them.

Winnie wouldn't have any of it, however. Any chance she got to make herself useful the elf snatched with secure hands without even a moment's hesitation. Besides, Winnie certainly wasn't above biting and growling to ensure she got what she wanted - Theo had the scars to prove it.

"I'll cut my hours at the Ministry so I can be of more help here," Asteria decided as she picked up another cookie from the tray, leaning against the steel countertop as empty dishes and mugs began to soar magically through the air, putting themselves away.

Hestia rolled her eyes once more, placing the rest of the cookies into a box so Asteria couldn't steal another one. "There's really no need, Asteria," the eldest Nott sibling insisted with an exhaustive tone, as though the pair had endured that same conversation multiple times before ( which they had ). "You earned that job, don't throw it away to care for me."

"You can't afford to be stretching yourself thin like this. Between taking care of Circe and your condition-"

"Speaking of which," Hestia interrupted, successfully cutting off Asteria's motherly scolding causing the younger Nott sister to scowl silently, "I'm running low on the salve you gave me." Asteria sighed worriedly, standing straight once again as she nodded her head.

"I'll head down to Slug and Jiggers tonight and get more ingredients - if you're running low, the others will be too." Hestia offered her a smile of gratitude, moving to place the box of cookies in the storage cupboard, "take Circe with you, would you?"

Asteria smirked, raising a brow at her sister as a familiar expression of amusement contorted on her face - already aware of the chaos her niece must have created that day. "Hard day?" the brunette spoke teasingly.

"Theo taught her how to conceal Exploding Snaps in the bags of flour," Hestia deadpanned, her annoyed expression only increasing Asteria's amusement. As it is, nothing made Asteria more proud to be an Aunt then knowing her niece did not suffer the same cold childhood she, Hestia and Theo had been forced to endure.

"I'll take her by Florean's as a reward. You sure you're alright to close up?" Hestia rolled her eyes at Asteria's motherly tone, "I'm 26, not 80. I can handle locking a door."

Asteria smirked in amusement, nodding her head as she turned to exit the kitchens. _"Oh!_ Don't forget your robes! It's getting cold out!"

* * *

When Asteria had agreed to take her niece with her on her little shopping adventure, she had expected the small blonde to request a visit to Florean Fortescue's Ice Cream Parlour. She had pre-imagined Circe standing behind the counter, wide-eyed as she looked at the various flavours only to settle on the same one she chose every time Asteria took her there.

The brunette also knew that, on the very probable chance that Circe had finished reading her latest book, the child would want to stop by Flourish and Blotts to stare for what felt like hours at the rows upon rows of novels that were far too advanced for her current age.

Still, Circe would pick her favourites and Asteria would buy them, knowing her niece would try her hardest to make sense of the words crammed on the pages of parchment - her thirst for knowledge almost as strong as her desire to wreak havoc.

It was quite ironic then, given Circe's mischievous disposition, that Asteria had not expected to find herself stuck in the crowded interior of Weasley's Wizard Wheezes. As it happens, Circe was rather talented at getting what she wanted - she had been partially raised by Winnie after all.

Currently, the witch was standing in the middle of a very crowded aisle juggling two paper bags, (Diagon Alley was now apparently dedicated to becoming eco-friendly), and a half-melted Chocolate Fudge Ice-Cream as she tried to keep up with her very excited 6-year-old niece.

Circe was in awe - pulling Asteria every which way as her wide-eyes raked over every shelf as though she'd found hidden treasure. The young witch was careful not to touch anything, worried she'd either break something or set something off. That didn't stop her, however, from running over to the large bag of Exploding Snaps the moment her eyes spotted them.

Caught in the middle of her niece's elation, Asteria lost the grip she had on one of the paper bags. In an attempt to secure it before its contents spilt, Asteria stumbled into someone behind her - the force almost knocking her off her feet, had it not been for the strong hands that steadied her shoulders.

"Hey, don't fall for me," a haughty voice teased, the cheeky undertone causing a deep blush to decorate Asteria's cheeks. Which, she of course blamed on embarrassment the second she turned around and was faced with her saviour.

Asteria cursed herself for her oblivity. It should've been glaringly obvious to her just who owned the store given the 10ft mechanical ginger in the front window whose resemblance to the Weasley twins was rather uncanny. She had heard news of the Weasley twins opening their own joke store - she just hadn't expected _this_ to be it.

The Weasley twins were infamous among the walls of Hogwarts for the pranks they pulled and the mischief they created - Asteria had been victim to many; almost falling into the swamp they had made on the Fifth Floor during her final year. She knew they had the _mind_ to create their own store - she just didn't think they had the means to build one quite this impressive.

( which was both very judgy and presumptuous of her but she wasn't exactly placed in Slytherin on a fluke )

Fred, withdrew his hands quickly - his posture becoming stiff as he looked down at the witch. Had the emerald earrings she wore and the snake ring that curled around her index finger not given her away; the perfectly woven styling of her hair and the sharply tailored business suit was enough proof to showcase the woman before him radiated a dominant aristocratic elegance.

Elegance he had seen only once before in a girl he had gone to school with. "You're a Nott," Fred stated matter-of-factly as he stared down at the witch, his 6ft 2 frame looming over her considerably shorter one.

"Glad to know your eyes still work, Weasley." Asteria barely spared him a glance as she readjusted the bags in her arms, muttering a small _"Evanesco"_ under her breath to discard the melting Ice-Cream in her hand. It was rather troubling that she'd not thought of it before.

"You're a _Slytherin._ " Asteria rolled her eyes, silently imagining what it'd feel like to _not_ be referred to or associated with her school House just _once._ "Yes, and you have red hair," the witch deadpanned with an irritated tone, "now, are we going to continue pointing out the obvious or are you going to allow me to shop."

If Fred felt threatened by her sharp tone, he didn't show it. Instead, he kept his expression well-guarded - his pointed gaze being the only thing letting Asteria know she was being regarded cautiously. He was waiting for her to do something dastardly - watching her as though she was on the verge of blowing.

"Just surprised to find the likes of you in my store is all." Asteria didn't miss the accusation in his tone. "Well you, apparently, own a joke shop and I have a rather rambunctious six-year-old with a wicked desire to cause mischief," Asteria replied, still cursing herself for being idiotic enough to not realise the massive joke shop on the corner of Diagon Alley was owned by the Weasley twins.

Fred raised a brow at the look of annoyance on Asteria's face, watching as the brunette looked over towards where the large bags of Exploding Snaps were kept before her face deflated. "Who, it seems, is also now lost," Asteria stated with a heavy sigh upon the realisation Circe had disappeared from vision.

"She's yours?" Fred inquired with mild interest, his brow raised as he looked down at the Slytherin witch. He couldn't recall Asteria being pregnant at Hogwarts - then again, he hadn't really paid that much attention to her unless it was for prank purposes or aiming bludgers at her during Quidditch matches. 

"My sisters," Asteria replied curtly, offering the redhead a pointed side stare as her eyes searched the interior of the store for any sign of her niece. "Not that it's really any of your business." Instead of being put off by her tone and leaving her alone, which Asteria had desperately hoped for, Fred simply smirked in amusement.

Though his eyes were still transfixed cautiously, watching her for any jolty movements.

"Ooh, and the snake bites," Fred chuckled haughtily; his tone mocking and almost dry as if his main goal was to annoy the witch. And unfortunately for Asteria, it was working.

The brunette clenched her jaw in annoyance, her blue eyes crystalizing and expression deadly as she turned her full attention towards him. "With a poison known to kill, so I'd watch it, Weasley." The amusement quickly slipped from Fred's face as he held her stare - unwilling to back down from a fight of any kind. Stupid Gryffindor recklessness.

The redhead seemed to be just as infuriated by Asteria's presence as she was by his - a common ground he found himself despising. She was a reminder of the War, of everything they had lost and the evil they had lost it too. And he _hated_ her for it.

The two were locked in a silent battle, both far too stubborn and prideful to admit defeat and thus only briefly aware of an approaching George who had his hand tightly clutched in a small, elated blonde's. _"There she is! That's my Auntie ViVi - she's so pretty isn't she?"_

"I believe this rascal belongs to you," George spoke with a polite smile as he and Circe came to a stop beside the two irritated wizards. The smile on his face was a reflection of the happiness invoked within him as a result of Circe's innocent ramblings - her love of mischief reminiscent of the one he had when he had been her age. (And still had currently).

Asteria sighed in relief, finally breaking her and Fred's anti-climatic stare off, (which he obviously took pride in, counting it as a solid win), placing her free hand on the top of Circe's back as the small blonde hugged the side of her legs.

"Thank you, George," the brunette replied in a polite tone, offering the tall wizard a kind smile before shifting her gaze back towards his idiotic brother with a raised, accusatory brow. "At least one of you were raised with manners."

Fred narrowed his eyes, the muscles in his jaw tightening as he glared at the witch with a calculated menace. "Pretty cheap coming from a _Death Eater_ , wouldn't you agree, Georgie?" And though his question was directed towards his brother, his attention certainly wasn't; instead lingering on the brunette in front of him.

George frowned as he looked between his brother and Asteria, not really knowing who she was or why Fred seemed to regard her so harshly. He was certain, however, that whatever fight the two were in the middle of was something he definitely did not want to be involved in - the growing tension was already close to suffocating him as a bystander.

"Hmm. You should've quit while you were ahead," Asteria replied with a straight smile, her expression and tone condescending as her snake-like eyes bore into his with a vicious warning. "Do not assume to know everything, Fred Weasley - it makes you look rather foolish."

With her words of warning still lingering in the air, Asteria turned towards Circe, patting her gently on the back as if to encourage her to move. "Come on, my little star. I'm sure your mums wondering where we are."

Circe smiled infectiously, gripping Asteria's outstretched hand tightly in her small one as the two Nott's made their way to the exit. "Can we come back, Auntie ViVi?" Asteria nodded despite her annoyance - she never had been able to deny her niece. "Only if you promise not to put any more Exploding Snaps in the flour. Uncle Theo's already…"

As Asteria's voice faded with distance, George turned his full attention towards his brother finding Fred rigid with his angered expression lingering on the door Asteria and Circe had just exited. "Who was that?" the younger twin asked, his confused tone desperate for an answer Fred was unwilling to give.

"Nobody."


	5. serpens morsu

═══════════════════════

 _❝screw stitches on your heart, the  
_ _more it burns the less it scars❞  
_ _⎯⎯_ Talia Mar, Jack

𝗖𝗛𝗔𝗣𝗧𝗘𝗥 𝗧𝗪𝗢 | **_serpens morsu  
_** _[𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘴𝘯𝘢𝘬𝘦𝘴 𝘣𝘪𝘵𝘦]_

**_in which he gets bitten for the second time_ **

═══════════════════════

Asteria sat in her office - the International Magical Office of Law on Level 5 of the Ministry, just down the hall from the Department of International Magical Cooperation head office.

The room itself was decent in size, featuring a solid oak desk in the middle of the room which Asteria had Transfigured herself on her first day - the tiny, worn-down desk that had been there before having seen brighter days.

Two large, black filing cabinets stood in either corner of the room; each with an Undetectable Extension Charm cast on them in order to contain the centuries upon centuries of laws, edicts, and regulations that were passed by the Wizarding government. Of which, Asteria was tasked to organise, revise and pass on to Percy Weasley for further amendments.

To say Asteria had been surprised on her first day of work to find that not only would she be working, essentially, for Percy Weasley but that he had been the one to request her for the job, was a severe understatement.

She had sent in her resume to numerous Departments within the Ministry - all of which she was more than qualified for given her outstanding NEWT results, and all of which she had been denied further progression to on account of her name and family heritage.

Percy Weasley was the first to give her a chance - whether it be out of the debt he thought his family owed her for saving his brother's life, or because he understood how it felt to be looked down on, Asteria wasn't sure. But she was unbelievably grateful.

She had worked in the Department for a little over a year now, and whilst herself and Percy were nothing more than work colleagues, they did share a common ground. They had both briefly been on the wrong side of the War, and knew how it felt to be subject to harsh and criticising opinions (whether they were justified or not).

Though Percy's experience wasn't nearly as harrowing as Asteria's had been, he wasn't a stranger to being judged unfairly and watched with a cautious eye. He could somewhat relate to her which offered him a position to be able to understand her. Something most others in the Wizarding World had overlooked.

In between filing away new regulations and supervisions on matters of magical secrecy and security, Asteria had spent the last couple of weeks making a list of those banned from International Travel and Apparition upon request of Gawain Robards - Head of the Auror Office.

Most names that appeared on the list were those of ex-Death Eaters, which was relatively unsurprising to Asteria. Whether the ban was justifiable or not was another matter entirely; Asteria didn't doubt most were under surveillance based upon the notion of their familial heritage and not a result of a criminal offence.

"Good morning, Asteria. Pleasant day today, isn't it?"

Asteria turned her focus from the growing list up toward the figure in her doorway and smiled. The tall, lanky redhead offered her one back as he walked into the office, taking a seat on the other side of Asteria's desk - though he took extra care not to wrinkle his sharply ironed suit.

"Good morning, Percival. How's Penelope?" Asteria asked the sophisticated looking man with a teasing smirk. Percy had dated Penelope Clearwater briefly during his sixth and seventh year at Hogwarts, however their relationship quickly fell apart once Percy got swept up within the Ministry's corruption.

After the War had ended, the third eldest Weasley child set about rebuilding the relationships he'd previously left to burn - changing his ways and apologising whole-heartedly for his previous mistakes. He had made great effort to reconcile with his family who had been wary to accept him at first (none more so than Fred and George), and was considerably happier than he had ever been before.

His luck, it seemed, was beginning to change and fate was finally on his side. Or at least, that's what he told himself the morning Penelope Clearwater had fallen (literally) into his life again a couple of weeks ago. He had yet to shut up about it to anyone willing - or rather, unwilling - to listen to him.

"My personal life isn't something you should be invested in, Asteria," Percy responded with a clipped tone as he nodded with a pointed expression toward the files lining her desk. "The new Apparition laws are."

Asteria rolled her eyes at her boss - a virtue only she had been awarded, "please, Perseus. Have a day off." Percy grumbled under his breath, as Asteria continued to smirk at him - a look of pure amusement and torment swimming in her eyes. "Have you taken her to the Royal Oak Tavern yet?"

The Royal Oak Tavern was a cute little Muggle pub that had recently opened in Trafalgar Square. Evan had taken her a couple of weeks ago and Asteria had not hesitated to tell Percy about it; insisting it would be the perfect destination for his and Penelope's first date.

"That isn't my name," Percy stated with a firm tone, only causing Asteria's grin to widen. "And no, I haven't," the redhead admitted with a heavy sigh, his cheeks tinted red with obvious embarrassment. "I can't seem to find the right words."

Asteria smirked tormentingly, raising a brow at the wizard in a challenging manner. "Seems that reckless Gryffindor bravery isn't all it's cracked up to be, huh?" Percy rolled his eyes, crossing his hands over his legs as he changed the direction of the conversation.

"I take it you've heard about the International Quidditch Tournament." Asteria nodded her head; she had to have been either deaf or completely ignorant to not have given it had been the talk of the Ministry for the last 4 months.

After the defeat of the Dark Lord, the six Wizarding nations that formed the Wizarding Commonwealth (Britain, Ireland, Bulgaria, France, USA and Egypt) had proposed the idea of an International Quidditch Tournament to strengthen the relationship between them and commemorate their union.

In essence, it was an embodiment of the Quidditch World Cup - however, less competitive and played by non-professional players. Instead, teams were made up of regular wizards and witches who were employed by their nations Ministry.

"Personally I think it's all rather idiotic, but the Minister has asked me to put forward names from the Department - as I recall, you were a rather gifted Chaser." Percy leant forward slightly, raising a sharp brow at Asteria curiously.

The witch looked as unconcerned by the insinuation as Percy felt about the whole Tournament on a whole. It was true, Asteria was a rather renowned Chaser - having won Slytherin House the Quidditch Cup single-handedly since she joined the team in her second year, but she had no interest in playing for the Ministry.

Though the thought of Percy Weasley ever attending a Quidditch game at Hogwarts did amuse her greatly. "And you think it wise for the Ministry to elect an ex-Death Eater?" Asteria questioned with a bored tone as she raised a brow at the Wizard.

Percy visibly faltered - shifting awkwardly in his chair at her blunt words causing Asteria to smirk. The witch had always found great amusement in making others feel uncomfortable. "The Minister doesn't wish to discriminate," Percy stated through an awkward cough.

Asteria stared at him blankly for a moment - her expression completely void of emotion as she returned her attention to the files in front of her. "Tell the Minister I'm not interested."

"At least think about it," Percy interjected with a heavy sigh, looking at the witch almost desperately. Asteria rose a brow as she peered at the Wizard curiously over the Travel Ban list, "I thought you believed the Tournament to be _'idiotic'_?"

"I do," Percy agreed with a nod of his head, "but having more members of my Department on the team will higher my chances at becoming the next Deputy Minister." Asteria chuckled lowly - no matter how much Percy Weasley had changed over the past year, his cunning ambition remained. It amazed Asteria the Wizard had not been sorted into Slytherin.

"Sorry, Percillius. I'm still not interested."

"That one's just ridiculous," Percy muttered with a roll of his eyes. It had become a running joke for Asteria to call the wizard everything other than his actual name; a joke that had both brought Asteria the greatest amusement and left Percy cursing his entire existence.

"I'll leave you to think about your decision," the redhead announced as he stood from his chair. "In the meantime, I need the reports on the new Travel and Apparition Laws as soon as possible, and Robards has requested for the Travel Ban list to be passed on to his office."

Asteria huffed in annoyance as Percy exited her office. She did not need more time to think on her decision - the answer was a firm no, and it was quite unlikely for it to change. The witch didn't want, nor need, the extra attention.

She didn't need more eyes watching and criticising everything she did - ready to condemn her and ship her off to Azkaban for the smallest of mistakes. She was rather content with sitting behind her desk, flying as low under the radar as she possibly could.

* * *

The Leaky Cauldron was as packed as it usually was on a Friday night with crowds hauling in from either entrance of the old pub. The numerous candle-lit chandeliers created a homely atmosphere which was completely juxtaposed by the sound of cheery drunken yells and the clink of glasses.

The Leaky had become the rendezvous point for Asteria and the rest of her fellow Slytherin friends to meet up each Friday night after work - given the people that passed through were either too ignorant or too drunk to recognise and stir trouble with the former Death Eaters making it the perfect spot.

Plus, the Firewhiskey was cheaper there than it was in most pubs in Hogsmeade and Diagon Alley. "Shame Flint's been reported missing - the guy was a tosser but he was a bloody decent Keeper," Evan spoke before taking a hefty swig of his Firewhiskey - wincing only slightly as it burned the back of his throat.

Evan Rosier was a rather attractive Wizard - with his dark curls and green eyes that left most Witches, and even a few Wizards, breathless. He, Asteria and Daphne Greengrass (Asteria's cousin) had been in the same year at Hogwarts though they had been friends since they could talk given their families were all rather close.

As per every Friday night tradition, the trio were joined by Theo - Asteria's younger brother - Pansy Parkinson and Draco Malfoy to discuss the latest gossip. Blaise Zabini and Luna Lovegood joined them on occasion when they weren't busy working, or more accurately, _shagging._

Asteria raised a brow at Evan from across the table. "Flint too? Calliope hasn't shown up for her shifts at the cafe for the past week and nobody's heard from her," the brunette informed, her hand nursing her glass of Firewhiskey.

"Flint's the seventh ex-Death Eater to have been reported missing in the last three months," Daphne muttered in concern, her expression growing worried as she looked between each of her friends. "Are the Ministry not even slightly concerned?"

Pansy scoffed bitterly from across the table, visibly angry by the entire situation. As if being constantly looked down upon as a result of your family heritage wasn't bad enough, it was now becoming increasingly more dangerous to be a known ex-affiliate of the Dark Lord within Wizarding Britain.

Over the last three months, various ex-Death Eaters had been reported missing - however, as a result of no evidence of foul play or abduction, the Ministry had simply swept the situation under the carpet even though any were yet to be found.

Evan shrugged, "if they are they're not letting up about it."

"The Ministry won't do a damn thing," Draco cut in, his tone firm and viscous. "Kingsley's fairer than most, but the man's powerless in response to a collective voice of prejudice. We're ex- Death Eaters. The Ministry will view it as nothing more than a weight off their shoulders."

"Can't say we don't deserve it, either," Draco grumbled in his usual moody manner before downing the rest of his Firewhiskey. The rest of the company were silent, mulling over Draco's words with a shared dejectedness. His words, after all, hadn't exactly been a lie.

Whilst none of them were willing followers of the Dark Lord, they had all dabbled in a fair bit of evil. None of them were innocent - though that didn't mean to say they hadn't repented for their previous actions and reshaped their futures.

They certainly didn't deserve to be ignored by the Ministry or endangered by the Wizarding community.

Theo snorted, rolling his nearly empty glass of Firewhiskey in a circular motion atop the table. "Well, you're all fucking cheery - I take it none of you have gotten laid recently," the dark-haired Wizard spoke with an arrogant smirk.

Asteria scrunched her nose up. Whilst she was no stranger to her brother's crude behaviour - it certainly was no secret that Theodore Nott lacked a filter - that didn't mean to say she wasn't disgusted most times Theo opened his mouth.

Pansy scoffed as she turned her attention towards the drunken wizard, "you're a pig, you know that?" She and Theo had been involved in a very lengthy on and off again relationship since their fifth year at Hogwarts. Neither one possessed the ability to commit completely.

Theo smirked lazily as he leant closer towards Pansy, "I'll be whatever you want me to be, doll." Pansy visibly faltered under Theo's gaze, broadening the youngest Nott's smirk as he winked at her. Across the table, Evan chuckled heartily - his infectious laughter even bringing a small smile to Draco's face.

"I'm not nearly drunk enough to be able to block this out," Asteria grumbled under her breath, quickly downing the rest of hers and Daphne's drinks in the hope to burn the memory of watching her brother shamelessly flirt from her mind.

Placing the empty glasses back on the table, Asteria stood - making her way to the crowded bar to get another round in. "Same again, Asteria?" Hannah Abbott asked with a smile as she noticed the brunette approaching.

Asteria offered the kind witch a polite smile. "Better make it five this time or I doubt Theo will make it into work tomorrow." Hannah chuckled, nodding her head as she moved to make the brunette's drinks, just as a familiar redhead joined Asteria's side at the bar.

The Nott witch sighed under her breath - the mere presence of the Weasley twin enough to set her on edge. "Great, I left one revolting creature to find myself in the company of another."

Fred smirked arrogantly, not the slightest bit offended by her words or her tone as he leant against the bar. "A victim of the snake's bite twice in one week? Whatever did I do to deserve such a pleasure," the redhead responded sarcastically.

Asteria rolled her eyes, turning her attention away from Fred's infuriating smirk before she did something rash. The brunette ran her eyes over the interior of the pub - a small, malicious smirk curling at her lips as she spotted Angelina Johnson sat at a table in the corner of the room, her deadly glare locked straight on Asteria.

"Well, let's hope you don't grow too attached to my poison, Weasley," Asteria smirked wickedly as she turned back towards Fred, leaning towards him slightly just to piss Angelina off more. "Something tells me your girlfriend wouldn't like that very much."

Fred lifted his head a little, his gaze settling on the questioning expression of his girlfriend over Asteria's head. The redhead shot Angelina a small smile before turning his attention back to Asteria, "jealous, Nott?"

Asteria chuckled lowly; as if she'd just been told the funniest joke in the world, "hardly." Fred's grin did not falter, instead, his amusement seemed to grow upon the knowledge that he was successfully annoying the brunette. "She gawks at you as though you've just discovered the cure for Dragon Pox - it's rather quite pathetic."

A hint of guilt flashed in Fred's eyes as he registered Asteria's words - returning his gaze towards where Angelina was now chatting happily with his brother, Lee Jordan, and Alicia Spinnet. Though it was gone as quickly as it came - long before Asteria had noticed, at least.

"The snake's heart is made of stone? What an interesting development," Fred drawled sarcastically, nodding towards Hannah who began to pour him another two Butterbeers. Asteria scoffed bitterly at the redhead - whilst his words didn't affect her, her biggest pet peeve was being prematurely judged. Though she didn't hesitate to judge others.

"I'd rather go without a heart than be someone else's lapdog," the brunette spat venomously, her brow raised at Fred as she plainly judged him. Hannah, seemingly ignorant - or rather careless - to the growing tension, placed a tray filled with five glasses of Firewhiskey down in front of Asteria.

Fred smiled flatly, "loneliness is a hefty price to pay for spite," the redhead responded condescendingly as though he were teaching the witch an important life lesson. "Though, I'm sure with your affiliation to the darkness you're more qualified to handle it than most."

Asteria snarled, clenching her jaw as that same, familiar accusatory tone made an appearance once again. Nobody, it seemed, managed to infuriate Asteria quite like Fred Weasley. "You're an ignorant prick, Weasley."

"And you're a heartless bitch, Nott." Fred grinned as he picked up his two Butterbeers from the bar - a baby's drink according to her brother - "the sooner you make peace with it, the easier it'll be." The redhead offered her a tormenting wink as he brushed past her, making his way back to his table with a grin as though he hadn't just offended her.

Asteria stood fuming at the bar, watching as Fred was greeted fondly by his friends. As soon as the redhead had sat down, Angelina had scooted closer to him placing her hand on his leg as they both laughed at something George had said.

Turning her head, the brunette looked towards the table containing her own friends - the drastic change in atmosphere chilling her spine. Theo was no longer self-aware as a result of the many Firewhiskeys he'd consumed, relying on Pansy to care and fuss over him.

Beside him, Draco stared dimly at the table; his expression vacant as though his mind was elsewhere. Daphne and Evan weren't much better; both scanning the pub with eyes of paranoia to make sure they weren't being watched.

There was no trace of happiness among her group of friends. Not in the normal, usual sense at least. There was only fear, paranoia, and desperation to be free of cautious stares and devastating opinions.

In that moment, Asteria found herself cursing Fred Weasley's entire existence and then cursing herself for being jealous of how easy it was for him to find happiness when she could not.


	6. iocus tabernam

═══════════════════════

 _❝baby I could build a castle,  
_ _out of all the bricks they threw at me❞  
_ **⎯⎯** Taylor Swift, New Romantics

𝗖𝗛𝗔𝗣𝗧𝗘𝗥 𝗧𝗛𝗥𝗘𝗘 | **_iocus tabernam  
_** [𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘫𝘰𝘬𝘦 𝘴𝘩𝘰𝘱]

**_in which she fulfills her promise_ **

═══════════════════════

When Asteria had awoken that morning, the last thing on her mind was _murder._ However, after spending the first few hours of her day listening to Theo whine about Pansy's lack of interest and being forced to wallow in Draco's suffocating self-pity - Asteria was teetering on a very close edge.

As per Hestia's request, Asteria was babysitting Circe for the day and had thought it a good idea to visit Theo. The youngest Nott sibling had moved out of London early last year building himself a new home in a Wizarding community in Brighton; which also happened to be by the sea, much to Circe's enjoyment.

The new Nott Manor, whilst not as large nor pretentious as the previous one, was equally as elegant and grand. The home featured five large bedrooms - all fitted with a wood-burning fireplace and a four-poster bed, though the interior of each was quite different.

Unlike the chilled space that encompassed the previous Nott Manor, _this_ one gave a much warmer impression. Though still decorated with the same emerald green and silver colour scheme that ran through the entirety of the home, the _new_ Nott Manor felt much more homely.

Asteria believed the large, candle-lit library on the second floor had a _lot_ to do with its inviting serenity. Well, that and the fact that the back garden led out onto the beachfront. There was nothing quite like reading a good book by the fire, listening to the waves crashing on the shore.

Draco, after making sure his mother was happy within the Malfoy Manor, had moved in with Theo not long after the war. The two had a stark resemblance of that of an old, married couple - Draco being the typical grumpy husband, and Theo being the forever whining wife.

It was a wonder neither had killed the other yet.

It had been a few days since Circe had last seen Theo as a result of his busy work schedule - however, after spending the last half hour listening to Theo talk about his latest issues with Pansy, Asteria was starting to regret ever presenting the idea of visiting her younger brother.

_Breathe. In through the nose. Out through the mouth. Just breathe._

"Auntie ViVi, look!" Asteria had never been so grateful for an interruption, even if it did come in the form of her six-year-old niece dressed as what can only be described as an 18th-century French aristocrat. The brunette stifled her laughter as though to not hurt Circe's feelings - Theo, however, wasn't nearly as tactful.

"Did a wardrobe throw up on you?" Theo's blunt words caused the excited smile on Circe's powder-white face to fall into an uncharacteristic scowl. Before the six-year-old could even retort, a soft pop sounded in the air as a small, spritely house-elf appeared in the kitchen.

"Master Theo is rude. Winnie spent hours on that dress, she did," the little elf scolded as her large, expressive blue eyes narrowed at Theo with as much menace as a house-elf could muster. Which, in Winnie's case, was a lot more than one would expect.

"He will apologise to the Young Miss, yes he will," Winnie ordered as she used the kitchen towel in her hand to hit Theo's leg. Asteria smirked as Theo flinched - the scene even managing to bring a small chuckle from the previously moody Draco.

Theo moved his chair away from the spry elf as she continued to hit him, refusing to let up until he did as she said. "Ow! Winnie, stop! I'm sorry, Circe," Theo relented, holding his hands up in defence as Winnie smiled and began to clean the kitchen as though she hadn't just assaulted her Master.

Whilst house elves had strict internal rules they lived by - the complete obedience and servitude of their Mistress or Master being a vital one, Winnie had always been considered more like family to the Nott siblings than help.

She was, in basic terms, the only mother (or rather, parent) they had ever known. She cooked for them, helped them dress and bathe when they were younger, talked them through their nightmares - and, Merlin, did she scold them.

Circe smirked smugly at her uncle from across the kitchen; her expression eerily reminiscent of Hestia's. Theo stuck his tongue out at her in response - being careful to make sure Winnie's back was turned before he did so. Salazar knows he didn't need to be attacked by another kitchen towel.

"Winnie, you need to stop spoiling her," Asteria spoke firmly, as though she was scolding the elf, though Winnie took no offence. Instead, the little elf rolled her big blue eyes; mimicking Asteria's expression perfectly, even going as far as to put her hands on her small waist - "Winnie does not spoil. She loves and treats."

Asteria smirked, raising a challenging brow at the elf, "that's the same thing."

"Winnie does as she wishes," Winnie shrugged, brushing Asteria off with little care. Theo snorted from across the table as he reached for his packet of Muggle cigarettes - a filthy habit he had picked up months after the War had ended, "don't we know it."

Upon hearing his mumbling, Winnie turned to face Theo with large, expressive eyes of sorrow and fear. "Does Master Theo no longer want Winnie's help?" Noticing his mistake, Theo's eyes widened considerably as he shook his head frantically, "no, Winnie. That isn't what-"

"Master Theo makes Winnie sad! Oh, poor Winnie!" the elf burst into tears, sobbing heavily as she braced her small frame against the wall. Theo stared horrified by the scene he'd created as Asteria sat back against her seat with a smirk; all too familiar with the tricks Winnie loved to pull.

"Winnie, please don't cry. You're being dramatic-"

"Oh, Master Theo hurts Winnie's feelings. He does not care about Winnie, he wishes to make her sad, he does." Theo shook his head; his expression one of pure guilt as he looked at the sobbing house elf. "All Winnie ever wanted was to take care of her family."

"Winnie, please, stop crying. I'm sorry. You take great care of us!" Theo spoke hurriedly, looking extremely apologetic; reminding Asteria of the young boy he had once been. "We wouldn't be here without you."

"Winnie knows it," the elf answered easily, immediately halting her cries as she stood straight - dusting her hands on her clean tea towel robe, looking incredibly proud of herself. Theo fell back into his chair, utterly gobsmacked by the entire scene as Winnie resumed her cleaning.

Draco snorted in amusement, raising a brow at Theo from across the table. "You just got emotionally manipulated by a house-elf, Nott. No wonder Pansy's growing bored of you." Theo narrowed his eyes, pulling out a cigarette from the packet before rolling it against his bottom lip.

"Mister Malfoy should watch his tongue," Winnie scolded as she snapped her fingers, causing the cigarette between Theo's lips to vanish. "And his watch. He is late for work he is, off he goes," the spritely elf ushered, waving her hands urgently as though to hurry the blonde Wizard.

Asteria smirked as Draco widened his eyes at the house-elf, still not used to being the one that's ordered around. His experience with house elves had been quite different to the Nott's, after all.

"You heard her Draco," the brunette spoke with mirth in her tone as she nodded towards her pouting brother - or more specifically, the bite marks on his hand from the many times he had not listened to Winnie, "best not to anger Winnie."

Winnie smiled largely in response, her large blue eyes gleaming with her usual mischief as she nodded her head, "young Mister Malfoy will learn fast, yes he will." As Draco began to ready himself for work, Asteria turned to Circe with a kind smile, "go and get changed, my little star. Your mum will be expecting us home soon."

"Winnie will help," the house-elf spoke immediately as she clicked her fingers, switching the kettle on to boil. Asteria shook her head with a kind smile, "no, Winnie. It's okay-"

"Winnie will help!" the elf growled, her blue eyes wide and stern as she glared up at Asteria. The brunette held her gaze for a moment before relenting, holding her hands up in defence as Winnie smiled triumphantly. Asteria didn't particularly want to end up on the receiving end of one of Winnie's tantrums today - Theo was already sulking more than he had been when she first arrived.

Circe smiled as she looked towards Asteria with an excitable expression, "can we go to the Joke Shop as you promised?" Despite herself, Asteria nodded - praying to Salazar, Merlin and anyone else who would listen that she wouldn't be forced to endure a conversation with a certain infuriating Weasley.

* * *

Asteria's pleas had unfortunately fallen on deaf ears. She was mere moments into appreciating the magical atmosphere of Weasley's Wizard Wheezes and the products it had to offer when a familiar tall redhead invited himself into her space.

"You just can't seem to stay away, can you?" Asteria lifted her gaze, finding Fred stood before her dressed in a ridiculous, purple dragon skin suit that only the Weasley twins would be caught wearing, and his usual infuriating smirk spread across his lips. "Should I be flattered, or worried?"

Asteria rolled her eyes - something that had become a subconscious reflex every time she was in the presence of Fred Weasley. "Deflate your ego, Weasley," she replied with a clipped tone, "I'm not here by choice, and I certainly am not here for you."

Fred did not falter, holding the witches stare with an unrivalled fire. "Well, it would seem your ability to lie is on par with your ability to look after your niece," the redhead remarked with an arrogant smirk, nodding his head to the space Circe no longer filled. "You can admit you're here to see me, Nott."

"In your dreams, perhaps," Asteria replied bluntly, her narrowed eyes staring viciously into his. Fred continued to smirk, shrugging his shoulders lazily, "can't say you're ever really a feature."

Asteria clenched her jaw tightly; silently cursing fate and her twisted sense of humour. The brunette had managed to go almost two years without catching even a glimpse of Fred Weasley, and now he seemed to be popping up everywhere she went.

Granted, she was currently stood in _his_ shop sacrificing her own sanity for the sake of her niece who lacked the ability to follow simple instructions. "What do you want, Weasley?" Asteria grumbled, emitting a heavy sigh as she looked up at the redhead.

"You're the one in my store, shouldn't I be the one asking you?" Fred furrowed his brows as he watched her, silently trying to figure out why he had approached her in the first place. Asteria Nott wasn't the easiest of people to get along with - not that Fred held any desire to.

He despised everything she stood for; a reminder of the evil they had lost so much to. And yet, he couldn't help but crave the sick sense of amusement he got out of seeing her riled up. He blamed it on his mischievous side - the part of him that loved to wreak havoc and watch as it spiralled out of control.

"You'd have thought," Asteria quipped with a devilish smirk. The brunette trailed her eyes over the interior of the Joke Shop in search of her niece - a plight that seemed to have become a common occurrence every time the two Nott's entered the store.

Asteria contemplated the best places to purchase some reins. Or perhaps a leash. "Though, the customer service isn't exactly stellar in here is it?"

Fred scowled at Asteria's criticising tone - whilst criticism and harsh opinions had never particularly bothered him, Asteria seemed to be able to get under his skin just as easily as he could get under hers. Fred prided himself on the fact that he wasn't easily angered - the fact that Asteria had gained that power in the few brief encounters they'd had left him seething.

"I'd say it's on par with your babysitting abilities," Fred drawled with a raised brow as he watched the witch's eyes move around the joke shop, subtly searching for her missing niece. "Circe's fine, by the way, she's with George by the Exploding Snaps."

Asteria followed his gaze - both silently relieved and incredibly pissed off that Fred Weasley, of all people, had managed to locate her over-excitable niece before she did. Without paying Fred any further attention, Asteria began to make her way towards her niece who was pointing with a beaming smile towards the bags of Exploding Snaps that she could not reach.

"What? No thank you?" Fred smirked arrogantly as he continued to follow her, taking great satisfaction in the knowledge that he'd managed to anger her so easily.

Asteria scowled, turning to face him with a venomous glare. "I'd rather die than ever owe you an ounce of gratitude, Weasley." Fred's smirk did not falter as he matched her stare; though his eyes gleamed with cruel mirth.

"Careful, Nott, or your poison might just kill you one day." Fred smirked arrogantly as he brushed past her, disappearing into the crowds of excitable children and their exhausted looking parents. Asteria huffed in annoyance - trying her best to forget about Fred Weasley and his infuriating audacity to speak as though he was better than her.

It seemed, however, that in spite of how desperate she was to scorch the memory of Fred Weasley's existence from her brain - it could not be done. Certainly not when he had a twin whose features matched his own with an eerie resemblance - excusing the fact that George now only had _one_ ear, of course.

"Auntie ViVi! Look what Forge helped me find!" Circe spoke with a large grin, her eyes wide with excitement and mischief as she held out her basket towards Asteria. The witch raised a brow, looking up at George with a questioning expression - who the hell was _Forge?_

George simply smirked, shrugging his shoulders as Asteria turned her attention back to her niece and the Dungbomb, Peruvian Instant Darkness Powder and small bag of Exploding Snaps that resided in her basket. "Oh, wow!" the brunette spoke with exaggerated excitement as she knelt to match Circe's height.

"You have to promise me that you won't use them in the cafe, my little star. Your mother would never allow me to look after you again." Though her words were stern, the smile on her face caused by Circe's delight could not be diluted.

Circe bobbed her head, holding her pinky out towards Asteria in order to seal her promise - which the older witch accepted instantly, "I promise. Can I go and pay for them?"

"Only if you swear to come straight back here once you're done." Circe nodded once again, blonde strays falling into her eyes as she grinned widely at her aunt, "I swear it." Asteria smiled, nodding her head at the innocent child with a small wink, "off you go then."

As Circe bounded towards the counter, Asteria watched after her with a loving smile. The fact that Circe was able to experience the childhood that she, Hestia and Theo had been neglected of filled Asteria with no greater sense of joy or pride.

"I suppose I owe you a thank you," Asteria spoke with a polite smile as she turned towards George. The redhead shook his head, emitting a soft chuckle. "I'm not so sure you'll feel the same after the Dungbomb's been let off."

Asteria smiled as she silently compared George to his twin - coming to the very quick conclusion that she much preferred George's company. Whilst the twins both _looked_ the same, their personalities were widely dissimilar. George was a lot less reserved, for one.

"You're much easier to talk to than your brother," Asteria commented with politeness even she didn't know she possessed. George laughed, shrugging lamely as he looked down at the brunette, "Fred and his beliefs are still set firmly in the past. He rarely trusts anyone, I wouldn't take it too personally."

Asteria rolled her eyes, "I have little care for his trust or his opinions - quite frankly, I'd rather he'd disappear."

"Me too, sometimes," George admitted with a small smirk - his much more mischievous in comparison to Fred's infuriatingly arrogant one, Asteria noted mentally. Asteria smiled, both amused and surprised by the easy conversation that seemed to flow between them.

_Definitely easier to get along with than Fred._

"I'm ready Auntie ViVi. Let's go," Circe ordered as she raced back over to the pair, swinging a small bag in one hand as she grabbed hold of Asteria's hand with the other. "Winnie promised to make me a hot chocolate with marshmallows."

As Circe began to tug on her hand - urgently trying to get to that hot chocolate she had been promised, Asteria turned back to George with a kind smile. "Thank you again, George."

"It's no trouble at all, Asteria. Just be careful with the dung bomb, their stench lasts for days," he replied, winking at Circe as if the two shared a secret. Circe grinned mischievously in response before waving goodbye to the tall redhead and pulling her aunt out of the shop.

"Fraternizing with the enemy, Georgie?" Fred asked as he joined his brother's side, both watching as Asteria and Circe exited the shop. George rolled his eyes; his expression monotonous as he turned to face his brother, "she's hardly an enemy, Fred. The war's been over for two years."

Fred shrugged; his eyes and expression still hardened and untrusting as he stared after Asteria's disappearing figure. "She's still a Death Eater. She can't be trusted," his mind transfixed and very unlikely to change.

Though, not entirely impossible.


	7. cecidit

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_❝they're out to get you,  
_ _better_ _leave while you can❞  
_ ⎯⎯ Michael Jackson, Beat It

𝗖𝗛𝗔𝗣𝗧𝗘𝗥 𝗙𝗢𝗨𝗥 | _**cecidit  
**_ [𝘧𝘢𝘭𝘭𝘦𝘯] 

**_in which he knocks her off her feet_ **

═══════════════════════ 

Set against the dull, grey painted shops around it, Weasley's Wizard Wheezes hit the eye like a firework display. The left-hand window was full of an assortment of products that whizzed, flashed, bounced and shrieked - causing casual passers-by to come to halt, transfixed by the various assortments of orange and purple.

Inside stood boxes, stacked to the ceiling containing the Skiving Snackboxes that the twins had finally perfected during their final ( and unfinished ) year at Hogwarts. The Nosebleed Nougat was by far the most popular - with only one remaining box still sat on the shelves.

Scattered around the corners of the shop were baskets containing trick wands - the cheapest turning into rubber chickens when waved, the most expensive beating the unwary user around the head. The front shelves lining the right side of the store housed the boxes of quills; which came in Self-Inking, Spell-Checking, and Smart-Answer varieties.

In the middle of the store, where the till resided, stood a small crowd of stunned 8-year-olds as they watched a tiny little wooden man slowly ascend some steps towards a real set of gallows, both perched on a box that read: _'Reusable Hangman: Spell It Or He'll Swing'._

In the middle of the store stood a bewildered little girl, wide-eyed as she looked at a box bearing the image of a handsome prince and a swooning princess who were standing on the deck of a pirate ship.

"Sorry, milady. I'm afraid I can't sell that to you," Fred spoke with an exaggerated frown as he popped up on the girls left side. "Over sixteens only," George added, pointing to the disclaimer on the side of the Patented Daydream Charm box which read:

_'One simple incantation and you will enter a top-quality, highly realistic thirty-minute daydream, easy to fit into the average school lesson and virtually undetectable ( **side effects include:** vacant expression and minor drooling.) **Not for sale to under-sixteens**.'_

"But if you come back in 10 years we'd be happy to offer you a 30% discount," George finished with a mischievous grin. The little girl smiled, running from the display to find her mother just as the bell above the large orange door rang out - signalling someone had entered the store.

"Well, well, well," George spoke in a teasing tone as he moved to stand in the main aisle of the shop, crossing his arms as he looked at the newcomer. "Look who finally decided to show up for work, Freddie."

Fred joined his brother's side; matching George's stance and expression perfectly. "Verity, you're fifteen minutes late." The aforementioned witch rolled her eyes in an exaggerated manner as she brushed past the twins, making her way towards the counter that the till sat upon.

"Some of us have lives, Fred," Verity commented with a raised brow as she placed her belongings under the counter before pinning her name tag to her brightly coloured blue robes. "Besides, it's hardly that busy in here."

Fred rose a brow at her words, turning to George with an offended expression. "Did you hear that, Georgie? She's criticising our business." Verity rolled her eyes once again - desensitised to both the twins' mischievous and teasing personalities after the six years she'd worked with them.

George shrugged in response as he looked around the shop which was, in fact, less busy than usual. "Well, she isn't wrong. Today has been kind of slow."

Fred rolled his eyes, "business is always rough during the first week of September. Hogwarts steals all of our loyal customers."

"Oh, that reminds me!" Verity spoke, suddenly much more upbeat and excited than she had been previously. Fred and George both turned to the pink-haired witch as she made her way around the counter to join them.

"I've been thinking about ways we could create some kind of delivery service - that way, sales wouldn't drop and kids could still get the products they need, even whilst they're at Hogwarts." Verity grinned with an excited expression as she pitched her idea for the latest development of business.

Whilst the witch had originally started as a cashier - helping Fred and George man the till as they helped customers find the products they needed - overtime, the twins had begun to look to for help with managing the actual business side.

Though Fred and George were both masterminds when it came to their mind-blowing creations, they were both equally as appalling at managing the logistics of the business. Now, whilst they tackled the development of new products, Verity managed the stock, daily income and all the other 'boring' (as Fred classified it) side of the business.

"We could create different packages, like the Skiving Snackboxes, that contain different products!" George added, seemingly very onboard with the proposed idea as he turned towards Verity with a large grin. "Verity, you're a star!"

The pink-haired witch grinned in response, smiling up at the redhead with false innocence, "so I'm forgiven for being late?" George faked a confused frown as he tilted his head, "you were late?" Verity's grin grew wider in response.

"So, drinks tonight at The Leaky?" Fred asked with a wide grin as he looked between his brother and Verity, eager to discuss their new business plan. "We can map out plans for the latest development in business - I'll owl Lee."

"Do you not have plans with Angelina tonight?" George asked with a raised brow. It had become increasingly difficult for George to spend any time with his brother lately without Angelina also present. Despite the twins both living and working together, it was as though Fred was hardly present.

Fred shrugged his shoulders - his expression well guarded, "none that I can't rearrange."

George eyed his brother carefully, able to see the cracks in his armour that he'd tried so hard to cover up. "You're still scared to face her," the younger redhead realised with a small, teasing smirk as Fred visibly deflated.

"She keeps talking about moving in together," Fred admitted with a heavy sigh, the expression on his face one of pure dread and fear.

Verity looked at the wizard with an expression of pure disbelief. "And she'd be daft not to. You've been together for almost six years, she's not going to continue to wait around forever," the pink-haired witch chastised with a tone of incredulity.

A small flicker of guilt flashed in Fred's eyes though it was gone as quickly as it came. Unfortunately, not quick enough for George to miss it. The redhead had always been able to read his brother like an open book.

"Unless you don't want her to wait around," George realised, eyeing his brother with a curious gaze as Verity widened her eyes in surprise. Fred and Angelina had always been the strongest couple she knew - both having been head over heels for each other since their sixth year at Hogwarts.

Fred sighed heavily, his shoulders sagging in anguish - "I don't know what I want."

George smiled sympathetically, his brows furrowed as he patted his brother on the shoulder compassionately. "Well, I hope you figure it out soon, Freddie." And Merlin, did Fred hope so too.

* * *

Night had quickly descended upon Diagon Alley as the candlelit street lanterns encompassed the cobbled stone street in a warm glow - the buzz of magic still alight in the air. Most stores were closed, their lights off and doors boarded up as the midnight hour approached.

Fred Weasley - now almost two hours late to the small gathering at The Leaky Cauldron he had arranged earlier that day as a result of a rather unavailing argument with Angelina - was one of few remaining on the desolated street.

Asteria Nott was another. After finishing a rather hectic day at the Ministry - Robards had insisted she read through a new law appeal he wished to put through to the Wizengamot that placed spell traces on ex-Death Eater's' wands - Asteria had made a hasty trip to Slug and Jiggers Apothecary.

As a result of Asteria's busy work schedule and conflicting shifts, the witch barely had enough time to keep on track with making the healing potion that Hestia was in vital need of. She simply didn't have enough time to do everything, nor the space to store large batches - and now she was paying the price.

As Fred locked the door to the Joke Shop, placing protective wards around it for extra precaution, the redhead stepped out into the cobbled path of Diagon Alley. In his haste, he did not see the witch who was walking urgently towards her destination - sending her, and her things, tumbling to the hard ground.

"Oh, shit. I'm so sorry," Fred spoke in an apologetic tone as he rushed towards the witch, crouching by her fallen frame in an effort to help her. Asteria sighed heavily, her hands and knees braced on the cobbled stone ground.

"Well done, Weasley. Your incompetence has officially become life-threatening," the brunette spat bitterly. As if Hestia's situation wasn't urgent enough, Fred Weasley had now delayed her recovery even more and it infuriated Asteria that the redhead didn't even realise the damage he had caused.

Fred chuckled dryly, smirking at the witch as he tilted his head in amusement, "that's a tad dramatic, Nott. Even for you."

Asteria rolled her eyes, huffing in annoyance as she began to collect the contents of her bag that had spilt to the floor upon her collision with the oblivious redhead. _Crushed Bezoar. Standard Ingredient (a mixture of dried herbs). Unicorn Horn. Mistletoe Berries. Star Grass. Lethe River Water. Porcupine Quills. Valerian Sprigs._

Fred's eyes followed her movements as he eyed the ingredients with a deep curiosity, "those are ingredients used in healing potions."

Asteria rolled her eyes once again, "I'm surprised you're able to identify such common ingredients, Weasley I recall you only showing up for _two_ of your NEWTS." Fred showed no offence to her words of obvious judgement, instead moving to help her.

"Why are you making a healing potion?" he asked as his curiosity got the better of him. Though he knew he had no right to know, nor did he particularly _care_ to know, the words seemed to tumble out of his mouth before he had the chance to register them.

His mother had always said he was far too curious for his own good.

"I hardly think it's any of your business," Asteria snarled as she narrowed her eyes at him - reminiscent of a viper's cold gaze as it eyed its prey. Still, Fred did not falter; choosing instead to help her pick up her things from the cold stone floor. Or at least he _tried_ to.

Fred sighed as he tried to pick up one of the glass jars, only for Asteria to snatch it up before he could lay a finger on it, "let me help you."

"It was your carelessness that knocked me down in the first place. I think you've done quite enough damage," Asteria retorted with a stiff glare just as she spotted the smashed glass jar - the Lethe River Water it had once contained now spilt onto the floor below.

Asteria huffed in frustration, falling back onto the cold ground in defeat as she stared down at the now unusable ingredient, "great!"

The witch was close to tears. Angry at herself for being too busy to make the potion her sister, brother, and close friends needed to ease their discomfort. Angry at Fred for knocking her down and destroying one of the most vital ingredients. And even angry at Slug & Jiggers for closing so she couldn't return for more.

"Are you alright, Nott?" Fred asked cautiously as he looked down at the witch. Her usual sophisticated essence diminished into a dishevelled, slatternly one that looked displaced upon her character.

Asteria narrowed her eyes incredulously as she looked up at the redhead who continued to crouch beside her. "Do I look alright? It's almost midnight and I'm sitting in the middle of the street talking to you, of all people."

Fred sighed, taking no offence to her tone or words as he stood up straight, "let me help you up."

Asteria scoffed, ignoring his outstretched hands as she began to lift herself off the floor wincing only slightly as she noticed the blood staining her left knee. "I don't need your help, Weasley."

Fred frowned as he noticed the cut on her knee. The redhead persisted in his effort to offer assistance, hooking his arms under Asteria's as he helped to pull her to her feet - though the brunette continued to fight against him, "stop being difficult. Your knee is bleeding."

"Oh, I wonder how that happened," Asteria retorted sarcastically as she glared up at the wizard - stray pieces of brunette hair falling into her eyes as she tried to keep her balance. Fred rolled his eyes, muttering a small _"Episkey"_ to heal her injured knee.

Asteria grumbled incorrigibly under her breath as she picked up her bag from the floor, dusting her now tattered black skirt down as Fred stared at her in amusement. "I have some Lethe Water spare in the shop," Fred stated, nodding towards the Joke Shop with a small smile, "come on."

Asteria looked back up at him with a raised brow the expression in her eyes visibly untrusting. Noticing she hadn't made an effort to follow him, Fred sighed. "Seriously, Nott. I'm just trying to help you," the redhead spoke in a soft, defensive tone.

"Well excuse me for being a little weirded out by your personality shift," the brunette quipped, still eyeing him warily as she took a hesitant step to follow him into the shop. "You've yet to mention the fact that I'm a snake who lusts after the darkness."

Fred smirked, emitting a small chuckle as he led the witch through the shop towards the large storeroom at the back, "I can be a nice guy on occasion."

Asteria snorted in amusement, "I find that kind of hard to believe."

Fred rolled his eyes as he looked through one of the many boxes in the back room searching for the ingredient Asteria needed. "You're not exactly the easiest person to get along with either, Nott," the redhead rebutted.

Asteria smirked wickedly, a glimmer of mischief and teasing shining in her eyes, "well, I am a snake after all."

As Fred emitted a small chuckle, the brunette's smile instantly dropped as she realised just _who_ she was joking with. She must have scuffed more than just her knees in the fall if she was openly laughing with _Fred Weasley._

Salazar, was she in dire need of a decent night's sleep.

Fred turned then, holding out a jar full of Lethe River Water out to the witch. Asteria nodded in gratitude as she took it from him, placing it in her bag, "thank you, Weasley."

"I thought you'd rather die than offer me gratitude," he remarked with a tormenting smirk, recalling the witch's words from their previous encounter.

Asteria rolled her eyes, sighing softly at the sight of Fred's infuriatingly arrogant smirk. And as easy as that, the witch was back to wishing the redhead no longer existed.

"Yes, well. This situation requires gratitude," the brunette spoke with a weighted undertone that pulled on Fred's curiosity. "Just don't get used to it - it won't happen again," Asteria commented, her usual venomous glare set in her eyes.

Fred smirked arrogantly as his broad figure loomed over her, "wouldn't expect anything more from you, Nott."

Asteria snarled back at him taking offence to how quickly he was to judge her. He didn't _know_ her, which meant his assumptions were based purely on speculation and that was something Asteria could not stand. "Expectations based on assumptions are dangerous, Weasley. Don't forget that."


	8. medicandi tempestas

═══════════════════════

 _❝and the violence caused such  
_ _silence, who are we mistaken?❞  
_ _━_ The Cranberries, Zombie

𝗖𝗛𝗔𝗣𝗧𝗘𝗥 𝗙𝗜𝗩𝗘 | **_medicandi tempestas  
_** [𝘢 𝘣𝘳𝘦𝘸𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘴𝘵𝘰𝘳𝘮] 

**_in which she feels threatened_ **

**_═══════════════════════_ **

Saturday mornings at the Ministry were often surprisingly quiet; or at least, less hectic than they were during weekdays. Which is why Asteria had been particularly caught off guard when she arrived to work that morning, finding a small army of news reporters and journalists forming a coalition outside the Ministry's main entrance.

It had taken her a decent 15 minutes of trying to battle her way through the crowd ⎯ receiving several elbows to the stomach ⎯ before she made it into the actual building itself. By the time she finally reached her office, she looked as though she'd been through another war ⎯ slatternly, dishevelled and positively furious with herself for not thinking to buy more Floo Powder when she went out the other night.

Her frustration only grew upon noticing the tower of parchments that laid on her desk ⎯ awaiting her approval before she sent them off to Percy for the final verdict. As if the current workload she'd been given by Robards hadn't been enough to busy her days.

"Ah, Miss Nott ⎯ you've finally arrived." _Speak of the devil and he doth appear._ Asteria turned just as Robards sauntered into her office with a strut that oozed arrogance, his lack of decency to knock causing Asteria to grit her teeth.

Gawain Robards was a rather stoic man, regarding himself in a manner that wasn't too dissimilar to Lucius Malfoy ⎯ though his arrogance and ignorance were on a different level completely. Being the head of the Aurory, Robards acted as though he held the authority to control everyone within the Ministry ⎯ Kingsley included until the Minister had promptly reminded him of his place.

Asteria could still picture the way Robards had sulked towards his office upon Kingsley's curt lecturing. As a Minister, Shacklebolt wasn't a man of many words ⎯ though Asteria had always been a fan of the way the man savagely, and successfully cut down inflated egos.

"I take it you've read through the file I gave you last week?"

Asteria sighed inwardly, rolling her eyes behind the Auror's back as she shrugged out of her coat; placing it on the silver coat rack in the left corner of the room. He had barely allowed her a moment to settle into her office before he hounded her with work.

"I did," Asteria nodded as she made her way to her desk, pulling out the file he had given her on Wand Tracing. "I just have one question before I pass it on to Percy ⎯ why are you appealing for the trace to only be placed on the wands of ex-Death Eaters?"

Robards frowned, folding his arms as he looked down at the brunette ⎯ promptly ignoring her offer to sit in the chair in front of her desk. He wanted to prove his authority, Asteria realised as she settled into her chair. "Well, I think it's fairly obvious given the recent disappearances."

Asteria rose a brow, her expression both one of confusion and mild offence, "and you think reformed Death Eaters are responsible for the recent disappearances of _reformed Death Eaters?_ "

Her tone openly revealed her thoughts on Robards' appeal with an unbashful certainty. In Asteria's eyes, Robards' whole argument was completely ridiculous ⎯ all the file had proved to her was that the Ministry, or at least Robards, was as corrupt as Draco and Theo had been saying all along.

Robards wasn't looking to solve the crime, he was looking for someone to blame ⎯ to further isolate and make villains of an already subjugated group within Wizarding Britain.

"I've learnt that you can't rule out any possibility, Miss Nott," Robards shrugged with an insincere smile, "even the ones that appear the most peculiar."

Asteria narrowed her eyes in thought, leaning her elbows against her oak desk as she looked up at the man. "So why not appeal for the trace to be placed on all wands? Would that not be more beneficial?"

"Are you telling me how to do my job, Miss Nott?" Robards rebutted, his tone clipped and firm as he narrowed his eyes at the witch. However, instead of shrinking under his intense gaze as so many others had before her, Asteria matched his gaze with a vengeance.

She would not submit and roll over so easily ⎯ if she wanted something, she would get it; whether it was given freely or not. Upon noticing this, Robards' glare eased a little; though his expression remained sharp as if he was waiting for her to admit defeat.

"Appealing for the trace to be placed upon every wand in the Wizarding World would never be passed by the Wizengamot," Robards spoke with a patronising tone, as though he was scolding her for even suggesting it.

"Not to mention the fact that it would be entirely inconvenient ⎯ I'm trying to lessen my scope, Miss Nott, not broaden it."

Asteria fumed silently at his condescending tone ⎯ had she been a cartoon character, there was no doubt steam would've been expelled from her ears. Robards shifted his gaze around the office; a sly grimace pulled at his lips as he traced his eyes over the silver and emerald green decorations.

"So instead you focus your line of directory upon those who have already been singled out and outcast by society?" Asteria spoke with an assured voice. The accusation and venom laced within her words did not escape Robards' ears, though he didn't show any offence.

"Are you not, in effect, simply turning _victims_ into perpetrators and creating yet another reason for society to distance themselves from us?"

Her anger and frustration were evidently getting the better of her in spite of how badly she had wished to control it. She wasn't arrogant enough to deny that society had reason to keep them at an arm's length ⎯ they had, after all, all (either willingly or not) been on Voldemort's side.

However, they had also _all_ been placed on trial in the months after the war. Unlike the trials during the First Wizarding War, Veritaserum had been used and all Death Eaters who pledged loyalty to Voldemort and his cause had been awarded a life sentence in Azkaban.

The ex-Death Eaters that remained were those who were proven to have defected ⎯ those who had fought on the side of good and had never once raised their wand to execute a Muggle or fellow witch or wizard. It was irritating that society still excluded them upon the belief they possessed the capacity for evil, without even giving them the freedom to change their opinions.

It was even more irritating that the Ministry believed reformed Death Eaters would outwardly turn on their own when they were effectively the only people they could truly connect with in recent times. Slytherins were rather renowned for sticking by their own, after all. 

"In my line of work, I've learnt that bad things tend to happen to bad people," Robards shrugged, looking unaffected by the words he had just spoken; though Asteria didn't miss his commination.

The witch narrowed her eyes at the man, not even trying to hide her blatant dislike for him and his accusations any longer. "Is that a threat?"

Robards had the cheek to smirk ⎯ the almost cruel curve of his lips setting Asteria completely on edge. She didn't scare easily ⎯ a trait that she had unfortunately gained during her childhood ⎯ however, something about the way Robards was looking at her, as though he knew something she didn't, was enough to make her feel uneasy.

"An observation," Robards corrected with a fiendish smirk; watching with a diabolical satisfaction as Asteria visibly backed down. "Have a nice day now, Miss Nott."

As the man left; taking the suffocating air of danger and threat with him, Asteria visibly relaxed in her chair. That was, at least, until Percy entered her office placing the latest issue of The Daily Prophet on her desk and Asteria came to the sick realisation of why the Ministry had been so crowded that morning.

|

THE DAILY PROPHET   
_SEPTEMBER 23rd, 2000_

|

_****INJURY ON THE PITCH? CHUDLEY CANNONS HEALER FOUND DEAD!** ** _

**ATLAS AVERY,** widely sought-after healer was found dead in his London flat, which he shared with his wife, late on Wednesday afternoon. The 25 year old had recently finished a study placement at St. Mungo's and was known to be an esteemed healer and potioneer.

Upon a lack of suspicious circumstance and limited evidence, Avery's death has been ruled as suicide.

News comes just two months after Avery was reported missing by his grieving widow. He is among the seven known defected Death Eaters to have been reported missing in the last three months, though the first to be found deceased.

Avery was a known and loyal follower of the Dark Lord, pledging his allegiance on the side of evil at the Battle of Hogwarts. However, the skilled potioneer seemed to have been making an effort to turn his life around upon recently signing with The Chudley Cannons as their newest healer.

Colleagues and friends have described the deceased as an energetic, hardworking young man who was eager to make amends for his past discretions. Avery's father and only remaining relative, Rigel Avery, is serving a life-sentence in Azkaban on account of his war crimes and the death of 6 Muggles.

_Did the pressure become too much for our all-star healer, or was there foul play involved?_

Gawain Robards, head of the Auror Division within the Department of Magical Law Enforcement, has requested any conflicting information on the case to be brought forward and urges any witnesses of the six other disappearances to come forth.

* * *

Oceanview was Asteria's salvation. After the nauseating day she'd had, when Pansy had owled her about an impromptu night out in Muggle London, the brunette had instantly agreed ⎯ wanting nothing more than to burn the memory of Robards' diabolical smirk and chilling words from her memory.

Oceanview was a deceivingly large nightclub in the heart of Muggle London, complete with deafeningly loud music and dimmed lights. The few seats it had, other than the odd stool at the bar, were black leather booths which lined the entire back wall of the club ⎯ the large, sticky dancefloor being the main attraction.

The club smelt like alcohol and sweat ⎯ a scent decidedly disgusting to most _sane_ people, though wickedly addictive to Asteria. Whilst the witch had never been known for her ability to let loose, there was something incredibly desirable about allowing your inhibitions to lower in a place where nobody knew your name or your past.

It was a form of escapism ⎯ a place where Asteria could be whoever she wanted, make regrettably poor decisions, and not have to worry about her dirty laundry being aired across Wizarding Britain the next day.

Dressed in a low cut, red bodycon dress that accentuated her envious figure ⎯ Asteria was ready to dance the night away and forget about the day's recent revelations and the consequences they held. If only Luna and Daphne had been on the same wavelength.

"Did you see the latest issue of The Daily Prophet?" Luna inquired from across the booth as she twirled her straw in her drink absentmindedly. Daphne visibly stiffened from beside Asteria, nodding her head with a firm scowl set in her features.

"It's ridiculous, isn't it," the redhead remarked with a bitter tone. "The guy goes missing for two months only to be found dead in his own home ⎯ and they rule it as a suicide?"

Asteria rolled her eyes, placing her vodka cranberry ⎯ her Muggle choice of drink that was both delectably bitter and fruity ⎯ on the table. "It's hardly surprising," the brunette retorted, her voice loud enough to be heard over the pulsating music.

"Robards seems to think that reformed Death Eaters are responsible for all the disappearances ⎯ he's got the Ministry running in circles."

Luna looked thoughtfully at the brunette as Daphne scoffed loudly; however, before either one could reply, Pansy made her return. The witch grinned almost manically as she carried a tray lined with 8 shot glasses filled to the rim back to the table. Tequila, no doubt.

"I've brought shots," Pansy grinned devilishly as she placed the tray on the table, shooting a deathly glare at Daphne as the redhead opened her mouth to dispute. "Do not argue with me Daphne Greengrass, this is girls night ⎯ that stick in your arse will not ruin my happiness."

Daphne instantly recoiled at Pansy's threatening glare. Nobody came between Pansy Parkinson and a good night on the town.

"She can't help it, Pansy," Luna spoke up from across the table - a devious smirk curled at her lips that was completely uncharacteristic of her usual serene expression. "It isn't in her nature to let loose."

Daphne stared bewildered at the blonde, a look of betrayal passing across her face ⎯ "I'd have thought out of everyone, that _you_ would be on _my_ side, Lovegood."

Luna simply smirked, shrugging her shoulders with false innocence. "I side with whoever satisfies my needs," the blonde retorted before reaching for her two shots, downing them one after the other without so much of a wince.

If there was one thing Asteria had come to learn about Luna Lovegood, it was that the blonde was much more of a minx than people had ever given her credit for. When she wasn't being patronised for her airy voice or ditsy outbursts, the witch was just as wicked and playful as Pansy.

"Oh, Zabini has ruined you," Pansy smirked devilishly as she grinned down at her newest friend ⎯ Luna's smirk simply broadened in response. Asteria was quite certain it was the other way round.

The relationship shared between Luna Lovegood and Blaise Zabini was filled with subtle touches, yearning stares and an electrifying hum of undignified chemistry. It had come to a shock to most when the two had been seen hand in hand exiting the Three Broomsticks three months after the war.

Though those closest to them were aware of just how perfect the pair truly were for each other. Daphne huffed, breaking out of her stupor as she looked between her three friends with a defensive expression.

"Well, I for one would much rather be sensible than be the fool who always takes it too far," the redhead stated, eyeing Asteria with an accusatory gaze.

Asteria shrugged her shoulders, unaffected by Daphne's words, "at least I'm consistent. I've been told my continuous lapses in judgement are endearing."

"And wickedly entertaining," Pansy added with a devious grin.

It was hard to recall the number of times Asteria had made a poor decision whilst inebriated on one hand. Her past of passing out on cold benches, picking fights with trees that were planted in ridiculous places, and losing shoes to ill-placed manholes is what had earned her the role of the group's entertainer.

Asteria shrugged unabashedly, "it's a known fact that Nott's are unable to handle their liquor; I'm grown enough to admit it."

Daphne and Pansy both grinned, the three girls sharing in a small moment of laughter. "Speaking of," Daphne began after a moment, placing her now empty glass back on the table, "how are you and Theo, Pans?"

The aforementioned witch stared at the redhead in disbelief, a look of utter betrayal and annoyance stretched upon her face. "Are you trying to ruin my night, Daph?"

Asteria stifled a chuckle as Daphne fell back against the booth ⎯ utterly confused by Pansy's switch in personality. Though, she shouldn't have been. Pansy Parkinson was as explosive as she was endearing ⎯ and she played both parts to an exceptional standard.

"From this moment on there will be no more talk of work, the corrupt Ministry, or idiotic men unless they're offering to buy our drinks." _Pansy Parkinson, feminist extraordinaire_ ⎯ _destroying the male hierarchy one alcoholic beverage at a time._

"And where in Salazar's name is Luna?" Pansy finished, narrowing her eyes at the spot Luna had once occupied ⎯ completely bewildered by how the blonde had managed to sneak away without any of them realising.

Asteria smirked, her eyes locked on the bar across the room where their blonde friend was currently stood ⎯ subtly trailing her hand down the arm of a very keen admirer as she laughed rather obnoxiously at something he said.

"Securing our next round by the looks of it," the brunette grinned devilishly, nodding her head in the bar's direction. Pansy smirked pridefully as her gaze aligned with Asteria's, watching as Luna successfully managed to secure four drinks from the oblivious man who thought he was about to get lucky.

"Oh, she is wicked."

* * *

The streets of Muggle London were still busy, despite it being well into the earlier hours of Sunday morning. People were congregated on the streets ⎯ talking and laughing, with some even stumbling into dark alleys to shelter their steamy displays of romance.

Asteria, however, had ducked into a deserted alley for a completely different reason entirely. For once, the witch had managed to control the amount of alcohol she had consumed that night ⎯ and, under the impression that she was sober enough to get herself home, Daphne had tasked herself with taking care of Luna and Pansy.

Both of whom were just as legless as each other; neither one retaining the ability to talk coherently, nor the balance to be able to hold themselves upright for more than a minute. Yet, whilst she may have been considerably soberer than the pair of them ⎯ Asteria was still far too tipsy to Apparate.

Something she had unfortunately learnt the hard way as she found herself tucked in a darkened passageway in Diagon Alley ⎯ braced on her hands and knees as she regurgitated the many tequila shots Pansy had forced her to drink that night.

At that moment she was truly a vision to behold ⎯ sweaty faced, scuffed kneed, and utterly delirious on account of her inebriated mind and the side-effects of Apparating. She hadn't even made it relatively close to the flat she shared with Hestia and Circe.

After a moment, Asteria muttered a soft _"Aguamenti"_ to rinse out her mouth and a cleaning charm to wash her face free from the make-up that was slowly melting into her pores. Taking a few shaky breaths in an attempt to calm the drumming in her skull, the witch slowly managed to pull herself from the floor ⎯ her legs wobbling rather uncertainly for a moment as she braced herself on the wall beside her.

In contrast to the bustling streets of London, Diagon Alley was eerily vacant. There was no laughter or incoherent chatter filling the air ⎯ instead, the only noise came from the subtle whispering of the cool September wind as it danced through the various alcoves and passageways of Diagon Alley.

And, in spite of the usual magical atmosphere that encompassed it during the daytime ⎯ Asteria had pointedly decided that Diagon Alley was far more nightmarish when it was vacant and dim.

Pulling herself together, Asteria made her way out of the alley she had Apparated into ⎯ heading in the direction she _thought_ her home was in when she began to hear footsteps shuffle behind her. Blaming her usual sense of poor judgement, Asteria spared a glance over her shoulder, finding nobody behind her.

Whether the footsteps had simply been a figment of her imagination on account of her still slightly foggy mind and paranoia caused by the multiple ex-Death Eater disappearances, Asteria wasn't sure. Though she made sure to hurry her steps, walking with an increased urgency towards her flat ⎯ her inherent need for self-preservation kicking in.

The footsteps only began to grow louder the faster Asteria walked causing the brunette a great amount of unease. Making a snap decision, the witch ducked into a passing alley; waiting for the follower to get closer ⎯ her reckless actions reflective of those commonly associated with Gryffindor. Not that she'd ever admit it.

Asteria braced herself as the footsteps grew louder ⎯ the slight shuffle of feet resonating against the stone walls alerting the witch that her stalker was close. Taking a deep breath, Asteria shot out of her hiding space ⎯ pushing the stalker against the stone wall as she held her wand against their throat.

"Woah, hey. It's just me!" Asteria scowled at Fred Weasley's shocked and defensive expression, pushing her wand further into his neck despite her relief. Whilst Fred may have loathed her, Asteria knew the Weasley twin did not possess the ability to cause her any harm.

His words may have been venomous and spiteful, but she certainly wasn't in danger of physical harm or potential death. Though Asteria seemed to grow even angrier upon realising that ⎯ irritated and furious that Fred had thought it a smart idea to scare her given society's current looming threat.

"Is that supposed to calm me?" the brunette retorted as she dug her wand into the side of Fred's neck ⎯ of whom, remained perfectly calm even though he was being held at wand point by a witch who hated him.

"Didn't your mother ever teach you not to sneak up on a woman in the middle of the night?"

Fred smirked at Asteria's incredulous expression ⎯ amused in spite of his current situation. "She did, but she also taught me never to allow a woman to walk home by herself ⎯ it's not very chivalrous," Fred replied with a certain air of arrogance that left Asteria's blood boiling.

It was almost comical how little effort it took Fred Weasley to rile her up. Asteria lowered her wand, moving a few steps back from the redhead as Fred straightened his green, dragonskin suit ⎯ the colour, surprisingly, not clashing with his red hair like most of the more eccentric ones did.

"I wasn't aware chivalry was a part of your vocabulary," Asteria stated with a rather snotty tone, looking down at him in spite of the fact tha his figure towered over hers. Fred was unperturbed by her tone, having come to the quick realisation that it was simply an extension of her personality throughout the various short encounters they'd had.

Oh, how ironically mislead they both were. "There are many things you don't know about me, Nott," Fred replied casually, shrugging his shoulders as his eyes twinkled mischievously under the dimly lit lanterns that illuminated Diagon Alley.

 _And do not wish to ever know,_ Asteria thought rather defensively as she spared one last weary look at the tall redhead before resuming her walk home. It was only when she passed Eeylops Owl Emporium that she noticed she wasn't alone.

"What are you doing, Weasley?"

Fred tilted his head as he stared at the witch with a raised brow. "Walking you home," the redhead deadpanned as he walked steadily down the street beside her, "I thought it was fairly obvious."

Asteria rolled her eyes, "no, I got that. What I don't understand is why. I don't need your help."

Her words were firm and authoritative ⎯ displaying her fierce independence as she stared up at the redhead in an unyielding manner. And, Fred may yet have believed her had she not stumbled into him mere moments after uttering the final syllable.

Fred smirked, catching the brunette in a firm hold before she could hit the floor, "you were saying."

Asteria scowled ⎯ a red flush flaming at the base of her neck out of pure embarrassment. As it happens, high heeled shoes and cobbled stone streets didn't make for the greatest pair ⎯ certainly not when the wearer of said shoes also happened to be mildly inebriated.

The brunette scoffed as she braced her hand against Fred's arm ⎯ pointedly ignoring the way his muscles subconsciously flexed ⎯ as she unstrapped her heels, freeing herself from the torture of embarrassing herself a second time.

Though Fred matched Percy's height, his build was much more filled out. Unlike Percy's lanky frame, Fred was quite a bit more muscular and well-defined ⎯ something Asteria put down to the many years he'd played as Beater for the Gryffindor quidditch team.

"Besides, I heard that it's not very safe for ex-Death Eaters at the minute, and I couldn't bear to have your mysterious disappearance weighed upon my conscience," Fred remarked with a shrug ⎯ his words holding a certain edge as he continued to follow a now barefoot Asteria down the cobbled street towards Hestia's cafe.

He had been on his way home from the Leaky Cauldron ⎯ having met up with Oliver Wood whilst the Puddlemere Keeper was on break ⎯ when he had seen Asteria stumbling down the street. And, though his mind had all but screamed at him to ignore her and leave her be ⎯ he _had_ been raised better than that.

Asteria chuckled dryly, not at all surprised by the bitterness that had returned to Fred's tone. It was more shocking, after all, to see Fred Weasley act even relatively selfless than it was to see him act like a prick. "And the shoe drops," the brunette commented with a twisted smirk.

Fred sent the witch a side-eyed gaze, raising one of his brows in slight disbelief. "Did you honestly expect me to be doing this out of the kindness of my heart?" the redhead asked as his usual infuriating smirk curled at his lips.

"My mother raised a gentleman, not an idiot ⎯ you're still a snake."

Asteria smirked wickedly ⎯ showing no concern for his words or disappointment for his true reasons for walking home. She hadn't asked nor wanted him to in the first place ⎯ Fred Weasley's existence, decisions, and words were completely inconsequential to her.

( What a fool she had been for ever believing that )

"And you, somehow, have just managed to become an even bigger dickhead," Asteria remarked ⎯ her tone exaggerated as if conveying the redhead just won an award.

Fred smirked, unperturbed by her words just as the pair came to a stop in front of the main entrance of Hestia's Cafe. "Your words sting, Nott," he spoke sarcastically, placing a hand over his heart in a mocking manner.

"You need to posses actual feelings for my words to hold any weight, and based on our last few encounters, it would appear you are sorely lacking," Asteria quipped with a sly smirk, watching with delight as Fred's expression fell into a scowl.

Asteria tilted her head, studying the redhead with mischievous eyes. "Perhaps, Weasley, you're just as heartless as I am," she remarked with amusement, her tone soft and yet still managing to seep venomously under Fred's skin.

"Perhaps, there's more _snake_ in you than you realise." And with that, Asteria unlocked the cafe door with a soft flick of her wand ⎯ leaving Fred stood in front of the cafe irritated, bewildered, and anathematizing the part of him that found truth in Asteria's words.


	9. rem vitae

═══════════════════════

 _❝without the mask where will you_ _hide?  
_ _can't find yourself, lost in your lie❞  
_ _━_ Evanescence, Everybody's Fool

𝗖𝗛𝗔𝗣𝗧𝗘𝗥 𝗦𝗜𝗫 | _**rem vitae  
**_ [𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘳𝘦𝘢𝘭𝘪𝘵𝘺 𝘰𝘧 𝘭𝘪𝘧𝘦] 

_**in which he seeks advice** _

═══════════════════════

Situated quite literally in the middle of nowhere - hidden behind a large wheat field just a few miles from a large, winding river - is where the Weasley family home resided.

The base structure of the home implied it had once been a large cottage - only, more rooms had been added as the family extended; now making it several storeys high and crooked, as though it would fall if not for the magic that held it up.

Seven chimneys were perched in various spots atop the red roof; quirky and odd, much like the people that inhabited it. Near the large tumbledown garage, several fat brown chickens pecked their way around the yard - seemingly circling the lop-sided sign that was stuck in the ground.

 _The Burrow._ Known for its warmth, happiness, and strong familial values.

The small kitchen was as cramped as it usually was on Wednesday mornings - with most of the Weasley children sat around the scrubbed wooden table in the centre. Molly Weasley pottered haphazardly around the room, placing various plates on the table as the frying pan on the stove reheated the previously cooked bacon and sausages.

Upon Molly's request - or rather, _demand -_ it had become a tradition for the Weasley family to come together on a Wednesday morning for breakfast. It was the only time the ageing-woman ever got to spend time with her children now that they were all grown up and living their separate lives.

Unfortunately, no matter how hard she tried, it was virtually impossible to get all seven of her children under one roof. Though four out of seven was better than none.

Percy, Fred, George, and Ron were all sat in their usual chairs around the table - eagerly waiting for their mum to dish out breakfast. Though, none more so than Ron who was practically salivating over the smell of the sausages - his bottomless appetite seemingly growing larger after the war.

Bill was currently in France with Fleur - the pair taking Victoire, who had been born earlier in the year, to visit her maternal grandparents and aunt. Since moving permanently into Shell Cottage, Bill was able to spend a lot more time around his family - something Molly was extremely pleased about.

The woman rarely went a week without making an unexpected visit to her eldest child's house. Hence Bill and Fleur's spontaneous trip to France.

A few months after the war, Charlie had returned to the dragon reserve in Romania - his face on the enchanted clock permanently pointed towards _'Mortal Peril'_. Between taking care of the dragon's, Charlie now spent most of his days organising fundraisers in the hope to reopen the reserve in Scotland.

Ginny, on the other hand, had been recruited by the Holyhead Harpies almost immediately after the war had ended. During playing season, the witch was required to stay in the team's dormitories - only having weekends and off seasons to visit her family.

The rest of her children tended to come and go as they pleased, much to Molly's displeasure. Though, Percy was around more than most - still trying to repent for his previous actions before the war.

Molly placed a plate full of sausages and bacon on the table beside the toast and eggs and watched with a soft smile as her four boys dug in eagerly. No matter how old each of them got, they would _always_ be partial to their mums home cooking.

With a satisfied smile, Molly flicked her wand casually towards the sink causing the dishes to begin to clean themselves - clinking gently in the background. "I told your Aunt Muriel that I'd visit her at St. Mungo's later."

With the collective sea of groans and varying expressions of displeasure the woman got in response, one would have thought she'd just asked them to de-gnome the garden.

"Don't look at me like that, I'm not forcing any of you to go - though it would be nice to have some company." And, whilst her words conveyed a choice - her tone and the pleading expression stretched upon her face suggested the only appropriate one was to agree to accompany her.

Ron, however, was either too oblivious to recognise this or simply did not care. "Sorry mum, I have loads of work to catch up on," the youngest of the four redheads spoke through a mouthful - which earned him a scolding glare from across the table - "who knew working at the Ministry could ever be worse than Hogwarts."

Fred rolled his eyes at his brother before turning towards his mother with an apologetic smile, despite not being sorry at all. Even if he didn't already have plans, he still wouldn't _willingly_ go and visit his judgemental great aunt.

"I've got a date with Angelina." Molly grinned at his revelation, waving him off with a happy expression as though she knew something he didn't - the sight enough to put Fred even more on edge than he had been since Angelina had made the plans.

Molly turned to look at the younger of the two twins who shrugged with an unperturbed expression."I simply just don't want to," George remarked, echoing Fred's internal thoughts as he grabbed another piece of toast.

His mum's disappointed scowl was something both he and Fred had grown rather accustomed to over the many years they'd spent hauled up in their bedroom creating various prank products. It had seemed to lose all of its effect after the scolding they had both received upon dropping out of their final school year.

None of the seven Weasley children had ever seen their mother quite so furious - everything after that seemed to pale in comparison. "I'll come with you, mum," Percy spoke up with a smile; the man still trying to make up for his past behaviour.

Molly grinned brightly at him, kissing the top of his head as a 'thank you' as she resumed cleaning the small kitchen. "Kiss ass," Fred muttered under his breath, coughing to disguise his words as George and Ron both chuckled in amusement.

Percy rolled his eyes at his brothers teasing - though an amused smile did curl at his lips as his mother slapped Fred upside the head as she passed. "Ignore your brother Percy," the plump woman spoke with a smile before fixing a pointed glare at Fred, "it seems he lost his manners in that explosion."

George snorted in amusement. "I'm not sure he had any, to begin with," the younger twin retorted - ducking in his chair with glee as Fred moved to punch his arm.

"Morning, Weasley's," Arthur Weasley spoke with a wide grin as he entered the house through the side door. As he passed the fireplace, the enchanted mirror perched on top of it promptly called him out for his dishevelled state - _"wash your face, scruffy."_

Arthur scrunched his nose up in displeasure - the black dirt on the side of it crumbling a little as he did. It was apparent from the grease that stained his hands, and the black soot on his face that the man had been sat out in his garage all morning - tinkering with his _'mindless contraptions'_ as Molly pointedly referred to them.

"I think it's about time we got a new mirror, don't you," Arthur remarked with an airy tone as he took his seat at the head of the table. The man reached for a piece of toast - oblivious to the fixated glare his wife was giving him for not bothering to clean the grease from his hands before he did so - "so, what's on the agenda for today?"

Ron swallowed the food in his mouth before answering - saving himself from being attacked with the tea towel his mother gripped firmly in her hands. "Mum's trying to recruit us to visit Aunt Muriel."

As his son's words registered, Arthur began to stand from the table. "Well, it's been nice Weasley's - unfortunately, I must be off to work," the man remarked, sparing each of his sons a smile as he reached for another piece of toast.

Ron, George, Fred, and Percy all smirked knowingly in amusement as they watched their father scramble to the door he entered through only moments earlier. "Arthur, you retired last month," Molly called after her husband - her brows furrowed deep in confusion as Arthur continued as though he hadn't heard her.

"Bye, Molly dear."

The short, plump woman sighed as she shook her head in despair, "what am I going to do with that father of yours."

"You could always sell him," George shrugged, smirking deviously as Fred nodded from beside him. "Or stun him - I reckon he'd make a half-decent scarecrow," Fred offered, his expression mirroring George's without fault.

And, despite herself, Molly could not fight the grin that broke out across her face - nor the amused laughter that escaped her lips.

Though not all of her family could be together all the time, she truly treasured the moments she got to spend with each of them. Whilst the war had scarred each of them in numerous different ways; leaving them all with their own issues to deal with, they were all still alive and breathing.

They still had each other - others hadn't been as lucky.

* * *

Romero's was a quaint restaurant tucked in the corner of one of the backstreets of Hogsmeade Village. In spite of its hidden location, the restaurant was always bustling with people laughing and talking loudly as they ate and drank.

The restaurant had a rather homely atmosphere - no doubt achieved by the twinkling fairy lights that were strung across the ceiling and the vibrant ivy that lined the stone walls. It was both romantic and casual - making it the perfect location for a date or a simple hang out space.

Over the past year, it had become Asteria and Evan's regular date destination. In fact, the pair had been there so much that the woman who owned it, Mrs Romero, had given them their own table - in front of the side window which allowed them to watch passers-by in secret.

The two would sit for hours, drinking and eating as they made up stories about the people they'd spot through the window. Plus, it didn't hurt that the Pizza there was utterly delectable.

Asteria and Evan were by no means exclusively dating - rather, the pair 'kept each other company', as Evan had so eloquently put it one night. But, it had never been _just_ about the sex; they were friends first and foremost, and that, despite everything, had never changed.

As per Pureblood tradition, the two friends had once been unwilling participants of an arranged engagement - though both were greatly thankful it had fallen through when both of their fathers had died during the Battle of Hogwarts.

To anyone on the outside, Asteria and Evan appeared to be the perfect couple - possessing all the qualities one would expect of a typical couple, save for the most important one. Real feelings. They were attracted to each other, there was no doubt about that - and they did love each other. That love just didn't run any deeper than friendship.

Asteria had found herself preferring the relationship she had with Evan to any other she had in the past - there was no jealousy or room for potential heartbreak, just the companionship and pleasure. But even she knew it wasn't sustainable.

It was purely coincidence that Fred and Angelina had also chosen that spot for their date that night. Though Fred was beginning to question whether _anything_ was a coincidence any more when Asteria Nott was involved.

His eyes had unconsciously been drawn to her - sitting in the corner of the restaurant, her head thrown back in laughter with a wide grin spread on her lips, looking far more positive and happy than Fred had ever seen her. In truth, he hadn't thought Asteria possessed any feelings other than malice and animosity.

He wasn't sure why he loathed her so much in that moment. Perhaps it was the fact that he believed she shouldn't be allowed to be happy after all the hurt she and the other Death Eaters had caused before and during the war.

Or, perhaps it was because whilst she was sat laughing obnoxiously over something that probably hadn't been that funny, _he_ felt as though he'd just been hit by a truck as his girlfriend sat opposite him - looking at him as though he'd hand stitched all the stars in the sky.

 _Guilt._ That was the main feeling. And then despair, and misery, and _fear._

All Angelina had done was propose the idea of moving in together ( for the 3rd time, mind you - though this time, she had spoken to Molly about it who had excitedly shown her the newest listings around London as though the woman had been eagerly saving them for that very moment ).

Now his mothers earlier elation made sense. No wonder she had been so eager to see him off on his date - he didn't doubt she'd be expecting an owl later telling her all about how he and Angelina had decided to move in together.

She would never receive one, though. Because despite how happy Angelina currently looked and felt, all Fred could feel was a suffocating sense of dread. He _knew_ he should've been just as happy as she was - this was their next step. The _right_ step.

So why did the idea of living together make him so miserable? He knew the answer to that, too. He just didn't want to admit it to himself - much less admit it to Angelina.

Perhaps that's what made him follow after _her_ , the second he'd seen her slip out of the entrance.

The winding streets of Hogsmeade Village were unusually silent during the later hours of the day - far quieter than Asteria had been used to, anyway.

Whenever she had visited the Village during her time at Hogwarts, the streets were always bustling with rambunctious children - loud laughter and chatter distributing the otherwise peaceful streets.

And whilst she had never really been much of a fan of silence, Asteria found herself revelling in the serenity the calm village offered her as she took a seat on the cold curb - a lit cigarette occupying the space between her first two fingers.

However, the silence, like most things in her life, was fleeting.

"Those'll kill you, Nott," Fred Weasley's familiar teasing sounded as the redhead exited the restaurant - his hands shoved into the pockets of his coat as the bitter September air curled around them.

Asteria only smirked at his words, exhaling the smoke she'd just taken in and watching as it evaporated. She had always criticised Theo for his habit; regarding it as nothing more than an idiotic, and expensive, way to ruin your health.

Though now, as she watched the smoke she expelled wisp around her before evaporating into the air, she began to understand the allure. She could pretend, in that moment, that her worries and anxieties were the smoke - lingering for a moment before dissolving into nothing.

She did not doubt that she'd pay for it later when they all returned at once, bearing down on her soul until she gave into them. But for now, - for this one, fleeting moment - she could forget and watch as they turned to smoke before her eyes.

"Careful, Weasley," Asteria smirked in her usual wicked manner as she turned her head slightly towards the redhead. "I might start to think you care."

Fred snorted, "doubtful."

Asteria said nothing in response - instead choosing to take another drag of her cigarette, inhaling deeply as she watched Fred shuffle on his feet. His manner was awkward and hesitant; two words that seemed completely foreign when describing Fred Weasley.

"Can I ask you something?" Fred asked after a moment - and though he had spoken the words, the expression on his face conveyed his instant regret.

Asteria snorted, her red-painted lips curled into a smirk as she rose a brow at the uncharacteristically gauche wizard. She'd be lying if she said she wasn't the slightest bit amused by the fact that Fred Weasley - usually arrogant and annoyingly self-assured - was currently having trouble forming articulate sentences.

" _The_ Fred Weasley wants _me -_ Asteria Nott, the proud Slytherin Princess of Darkness - to give him my opinion?" Asteria remarked with sarcastic flair, a smirk on her lips as she watched Fred roll his eyes. "I'm flattered."

In truth, Fred wasn't quite sure _what_ had possessed him to follow after Asteria and ask her, of all people, for help. It was as though some unknown force had driven him in her direction - urging him to seek her advice as though it knew she'd be the one to communicate what Fred already knew but couldn't admit.

"Well, not really. But something tells me you're the only one that won't hesitate to give me an honest answer," Fred replied with a heavy sigh as he invited himself to take a seat on the curb beside her - though not _too_ close.

Asteria tilted her head as she looked at the man, taking another drag of her cigarette as she thought over his words. "Well, I do just adore helping the less fortunate," the brunette taunted with a nefarious glint in her eyes, "you've got five minutes."

Fred nodded, swallowing thickly as he tried to figure out the best way to formulate his words - internally debating whether this was a good idea. It wasn't. Revealing your most vulnerable thoughts to your enemy was _never_ a good idea, and deep down he knew it - and yet, he couldn't seem to stop the words from tumbling from his lips.

"Say you've been in a relationship for six years and your partner proposes the idea of moving in together - in theory, you should be elated, right?" Fred began, wringing his hands anxiously in his lap as he spilt his secrets.

"It's the next step, it makes sense. However, instead of excitement: all you feel is a gut-wrenching sense of dread and guilt. What do you do?"

Asteria watched the wizard carefully - studying his movements and tone, noticing the way he was looking everywhere apart from at her. As though he was trying to trick his mind into believing she was somebody else.

"Trouble in paradise?" Asteria teased, her words lacking the malicious weight they usually held.

Fred scowled as he turned his gaze toward the witch, as though he had just remembered _who_ it was he was talking to. "Don't judge me, Nott," the redhead grunted bitterly, "I'm not in the mood for spite."

Asteria snorted in dry amusement. "Pot," the brunette drawled as she pointed to Fred before pointing to herself a moment later, "kettle."

Fred rolled his eyes once more, reminding Asteria more of a petulant child than a 22-year-old man. And, for once in her life, the witch allowed the mirth and judging in her tone to dissolve and instead became _helpful_.

Perhaps it was the wine she had consumed that night - or the nicotine in her cigarette that was clogging the parts of her mind that knew better.

Or perhaps it was simply the fact that she had never seen Fred Weasley look so distraught - and despite how much she loathed him, unhappiness, she had decided, did not look good on him.

"You don't need my thoughts on this, Weasley. You already know what to do," Asteria spoke with a sort of calmness that made her words seem more philosophical than they were. Perhaps if her job at the Ministry didn't work out, she could become an Oracle.

Fred huffed in frustration as the witch analysed him, "and how could you possibly know that?"

Asteria shrugged, unperturbed by the malicious edge to his tone - it wasn't anything she wasn't already used to. "For the same reason you chose to tell me instead of George or Lee," the brunette replied simply as Fred tilted his head curiously.

"My advice and opinions don't mean anything to you. You don't care about what _I_ have to say, or how I look at you - but you care about them," Asteria explained, watching as Fred's expression became more closed off with each syllable she spoke.

They _both_ knew her words were true - and Fred was _furious_ that Asteria had managed to get into his head so easily. She understood him; a fact that left Fred seething at her for even _daring_ to put herself on the same level as him, and at himself for ever thinking that _this_ had been a good idea.

Still, Asteria pushed on - completely unbothered by the harsh glare she was receiving from Fred. "And you're scared that talking to them about this will make it real - that you know you'll have no other choice but to do that very thing you're so hesitant to do because they'll hate you if you don't."

Fred gritted his teeth, his expression more angered than Asteria had ever seen it, "I didn't ask you to psychoanalyse me, Nott."

"Nobody is forcing you to listen to me," Asteria replied with a roll of her eyes - stubbing out the end of her cigarette on the curb beside her. "You're still here because a part of you, no matter how inconsequential, knows that what I'm saying is true."

Fred turned his attention towards the cobble stoned path - his glare unyielding. He knew this was a bad idea. He had _known_ it from the beginning. What sort of idiot willingly discusses personal, intimate matters with their _enemy_?

How _dare_ she analyse him so rawly. How dare she speak of his issues as though she _knew_ what he was going through - as if they were _friends_. And how dare she manage to do it all so perfectly.

He knew she was right. Everything she had said so far illuminated that light bulb in his mind, reinforcing everything he already knew himself. And Godric, did he despise her for it.

"You're scared to let go of the last remaining cord that connects you to the life you had before the war, and so you find yourself falling deeper down a rabbit hole of white lies and fabricated promises," Asteria spoke with a tone that almost suggested she understood.

As though her words were not only true of what Fred was going through but what she had gone through herself. Another common ground the two shared that Asteria could not help but wish to see crumble.

The witch wrapped her black cardigan tighter around her frame, the chilly September wind biting at any uncovered piece of skin it could find. "At some point, you're going to have to stop and face the fact that time is moving quickly - and life? Life goes right along with it."

Fred huffed out a breath - his jaw clenched as he felt Asteria's gaze burn into the side of his face. "But I think you know that," the brunette stated knowingly, "that's why you already know what that small, gut-wrenching hole in your heart is. Why you know _exactly_ what you need to do."

Fred heard her unspoken words echoing in his head. _End your relationship with Angelina. Cut the cord you're still desperately clinging to. Move on._

"This was a mistake," Fred grumbled as began to push himself to his feet - a fiery glare set in his eyes as he looked down at Asteria as though she had just ruined his life. " I knew I should've never asked you. You can't help but suck the happiness out of everyone you speak to."

Asteria snarled at him, her own anger flaring as Fred took out his anger at himself out on her. She knew her words had hit him deep - Merlin, Fred himself knew it - and he was furious that she was able to see straight through him.

He had always prided himself on his ability to keep his emotions well-guarded - defences he had put up to disable anyone from making a fool out of him, which had only grown stronger during the years leading up to the war.

George was the only person that was able to see through the persona Fred had constructed - and that's only because they both practically shared the same brain. Asteria didn't know him at _all_ and she had managed to disable every single one of his defences with just a simple analysis of his movements.

"Just because you're miserable, Nott, doesn't mean you have to make everyone else miserable too," Fred spat viciously - he didn't care if his words were too harsh, or if his tone cut her too deep.

He wanted her angry - seething with white, hot fury just as she had made him. It didn't matter that all she had done was what he had asked her to do; what he had _expected_ her to do.

"Hey, you asked for an honest opinion - do not blame me for the fact that you're too stubborn to hear it," Asteria snarled as she pulled herself to her feet - squaring up to the man despite her small height.

Fred held her glare, hoping to see her burn in the ferocity of it. Which of course, she didn't. If there was one thing Asteria Nott did perfectly, it was holding her ground. She would not be easily weaned by Fred Weasley's attempt at a threat.

"Neither of you deserve to live a lie, Weasley," Asteria stated firmly - the malice that had once been laced within her tone replaced with a newfound sincerity Fred wasn't aware she possessed. "A life of unhappiness is something that even _I_ wouldn't wish on you."

Her words lingered in the air like the smoke she had exhaled only moments before - curling around Fred in a taunting whisper. She was right, Merlin did he know she was right, but admittance was much too big of a pill for him to swallow.

Still, as he watched her re-enter the restaurant and join Evan at their table - the pair laughing and smiling as he stood outside in the cold September air - he found himself yearning for what she had. Happiness. Rare, real, and true - _happiness._


	10. invitis peregrinus

═══════════════════════

 _❝the silence overtakes me,  
_ _the_ _idle_ _words forsake me  
_ _and_ _I am_ _left to face me❞  
_ ━ Flyleaf, In The Dark

𝗖𝗛𝗔𝗣𝗧𝗘𝗥 𝗦𝗘𝗩𝗘𝗡 | **_invitis peregrinus  
_** [𝘢𝘯 𝘶𝘯𝘸𝘢𝘯𝘵𝘦𝘥 𝘷𝘪𝘴𝘪𝘵𝘰𝘳]

_**in which she gets an unexpected visit** _

═══════════════════════

It had been barely 7 in the morning when Asteria first arrived to work that day - still rather sluggish and lethargic after her 'date night' with Evan. If she had been given the choice, her office was the last place she'd have been at 7:01 am on a Thursday.

As it was, Robards had given her another task load to work through even though he wasn't her Head of Department. Among travel ban lists and notes on certain peoples latest locations (of which, Asteria believed Robards had no real right to have), Asteria now had to prepare resources for the enactment of the new Wand Trace Law.

Much to her irritation, Robards' appeal had been passed by the Wizengamot meaning all known ex-Death Eaters (those bearing the Dark Mark) had to surrender their wands to the Aurory for the new spell detection charm to be placed on them.

Given the fact that she didn't bear the mark of the Dark Lord, Asteria had managed to escape the law on a technicality. Not that she minded much either way - she had nothing to hide, after all - but the look upon Robards' face when he realised had offered her great satisfaction.

By lunchtime, she was certain the man was mocking her - allowing her to see the different avenues he was inquiring but none of the results. Despite doing most of his work, Asteria didn't have a single clue _what_ he was searching for or what he had found; and that infuriated her, just as she suspected he knew it would.

It was almost three in the afternoon when Kingsley arrived in the doorway of Asteria's office. The witch was in the middle of writing out the letter that would be sent to all known defected Death Eaters - requesting their presence, and wands, in the Aurory before October 5th - when the Minister had knocked at her door.

Asteria stood from her desk as a sign of respect. Her expression held an unwavering calmness and sophistication, which, unfortunately, was not transferred internally. The brunette's head raced with the various scenarios that could have brought Kingsley to her Office - all much more incriminating than the other.

"Good afternoon, Minister," Asteria spoke with a kind smile as she wiped her clammy hands on her black tailored skirt, gesturing her hand towards the chair in front of her desk.

Kingsley smiled gratefully - his purple robes billowing elegantly as entered the room. "Miss Nott," the man nodded in greeting before taking the seat she had offered him. "Percy tells me you're interested in being the Ministry's Chaser for the Commonwealth Tournament?"

Asteria caught herself before the eye-roll could slip. It seemed no matter how much disinterest she'd shown in the tournament, Percy could still not take a hint. "Percy's ability to listen is concerningly selective," the brunette replied in a gruff tone - a heavy sigh escaping her lips.

"I'm afraid that I simply don't have the time to try out, least of all actually compete," Asteria explained to the man with an apologetic expression. Kingsley, however, didn't seem the least bit offended as he sent her an amused smirk.

"Do not fret, Asteria," Kingsley spoke with a shrug of his shoulders. "The position was filled - though, I do hope you can find some time to spare to _watch_ the Tournament."

Asteria's eyes widened as the man pushed three tickets for the Commonwealth Quidditch Tournament across her desk towards her. In truth, the woman hadn't given much thought about attending the tournament - she had work and her siblings to worry about, everything else was placed on the back burner.

That didn't mean she wanted to go any less - plus, she didn't doubt Circe would also want to go. The young blonde had always been fascinated with Quidditch, just as she was with reading and pranking - the perfect blend of Hestia, Asteria, and Theo.

"Thank you, Minister," the brunette spoke with a kind smile - still awed by the man's presence, least of all his generosity.

The Minister offered her a kind smile, nodding in acknowledgement as he stood. It was no secret that Asteria had been working late hours at the Ministry - fulfilling the requests of Robards despite her working in a different Department, trying her hardest to figure out the mystery of the recent disappearances.

It wasn't her job, but she still worked as though it was. Kingsley felt he should reward her for her efforts - to let her know he appreciated everything she was doing. Asteria, however, didn't need gratitude. She needed answers.

Though she pocketed the tickets nonetheless.

"If I may be so bold," Asteria called out before Kingsley could leave - a hesitant look on her face as if she wasn't particularly sure she had any right to discuss such matters with the man - "I've noticed Robards' trace appeal has been passed?"

Kingsley looked as annoyed as Asteria felt as he nodded his head at her observation, "through no pleasure of mine."

"It seems my role as Minister is rather ineffective in comparison to the majority verdict of the Wizengamot," the man stated with a hint of venom laced in his tone - his irritated expression enough to show Asteria that he had not been in favour of Robards' plans.

Asteria looked at the man curiously, "so, you don't agree with Robards?"

Kingsley almost looked offended by her question as he lingered in the middle of her room, "oh, no. I believe Robards' is grasping at straws - looking to make an enemy out of a group that just wants an opportunity to fit in."

Asteria furrowed her brows, "so why not remove him from his post? Surely the Minister has enough power to demote a Head of Office should they not think they're doing their job correctly?"

If Kingsley took offence to Asteria's accusatory tone, he did not show it. It wasn't necessarily that Asteria thought the man was not doing his job correctly - she just didn't understand why Kingsley would allow Robards to be the main Auror in charge of the case if he thought he was making a mess of it.

"Because my theories are based purely on speculation and a strong dislike - I have no proof," Kingsley replied with a grimace - assuring Asteria that he wanted Robards gone just as much as she did, though neither acquired the means to see him demoted.

"You of all people should be aware of just how damaging speculations can be if they're not backed up with evidence, Miss Nott," Kingsley spoke with a raised brow. Asteria nodded subtly - she wasn't a stranger to ill-evidenced assumptions.

People judged her purely based on her last name and Hogwarts house. Very few actually took the time to get to know her - to realise she wasn't at all like what they'd first thought.

If Kingsley demoted Robards purely based on his dislike for the man, the repercussions it could have would be endless. If they wanted to do something about him, they had to be careful. They needed proof of corruption.

Kingsley offered the brunette a reassuring smile, "I wouldn't let it worry you, Asteria. The wand trace does track the spells cast by the castor's wand, but it won't hold solely as definitive proof."

"Robards will need much more than a traced hex or jinx to be able to incriminate just anyone," Kingsley informed the woman. And though his words were meant to be reassuring, they only worried Asteria more.

The witch wasn't sure Robards was above fabricating evidence if it meant he could find someone to blame - someone to be the scapegoat whilst he basked in the glory of being the hero that solved the crime.

Asteria smiled despite her internal concern, "thank you, Minister. It's comforting to finally have a Minister that isn't so easily swayed into corruption." And though her smile was fabricated, her words were not.

Kingsley had always been kind to her; treating her with the same respect he treated everyone else with. He did not possess the same judgemental outlook so many others did after the war. He was fair and diplomatic - some would argue it was these two qualities that made him a pushover.

Asteria concluded that it was, in fact, those two qualities that made him the best Minister for Magic the British Wizarding World had seen in a long time.

Kingsley smiled at the witch - an expression of fondness illuminating his ageing features. "We're all human, Miss Nott," the man spoke with a certain sophistication and wisdom one could only dream of possessing.

"Every life is worth the same - the same opportunities, the same basic rights. Every life is worth saving," Kingsley finished with an assured tone. Asteria smiled as Kingsley made his way to the door, lingering only for a moment as he sent her another kind smile.

"Enjoy the rest of your day, Miss Nott." Asteria nodded her head subtly, "thank you, Minister. You as well," the brunette called as Kingsley left her office - his purple robes billowing in an enviously elegant way behind him.

* * *

It wasn't uncommon for Percy to work late. It had become a running joke among the Department that the redhead _lived_ in his office - the fact that Percy always seemed to be the first one into work and the last one to leave only seemed to confirm the suspicion.

What _was_ uncommon, however, was seeing Percy joined by his brothers. Ron would sometimes stop by the elder wizards office for lunch when Hermione and Harry were both busy, though it was quite sporadic. Seeing Fred and George in the Ministry was an even rarer occurrence.

The twins did everything they could to avidly avoid the Ministry - finding the whole building far too clinical and strict for their personal taste. It was another reason they had passed all the business needs over to Verity - allowing the pink-haired witch to deal with all their stock importation documents and financing.

To see Fred, George, and Ron all gathered in Percy's office was enough evidence to infer something grave had happened. And it had.

As Percy sat at his desk - writing identical letters to Bill, Charlie and Ginny who could not be there in person - Fred, George, and Ron shifted around his office with varying expressions of devastation and anger.

"What exactly happened, Percy?" the youngest of the four asked as he sat in the seat in front of Percy's desk. They had each received an owl telling them to come to Percy's office in a matter of urgency - and they had listened, though they were all beginning to wish they hadn't.

Percy emitted a sigh, pausing his writing for a second as he looked towards his brother with heavy eyes. "We were leaving Aunt Muriel's ward when a trainee-healer knocked into mum," the redhead explained for the third time - his tone just as thick with sadness as it had been the first.

"She dropped a vial of Doxy Disease on impact - mum was in such a close proximity… she couldn't avoid it," Percy swallowed as new tears began to well in his eyes. Ron slumped backwards in his seat, the weight of the situation almost crushing him as Fred and George leant against the wall to the left; also stuck in a suffocating whirlwind of devastation and confusion. 

_Doxy Disease:_ named ever so creatively after the Doxy whose bite was venomous and often fatal, was a disease that infused itself into the blood. In basic terms, it was a type of poison that fused with one's red blood cells and eliminated all white blood cells until there was nothing left to fight it ⎯ contaminating one's blood until the poison reached the heart.

It was a slow, and extremely painful, process that could take anywhere between three months to a year before causing a fatality. It had been used as a chemical weapon during the war and had caused mass devastation - which is why the last remaining vials of it had been stored at St. Mungo's for study purposes.

Whilst the war was long since over, there were still a few Death Eaters who knew how to create the disease. The Ministry was adamant about finding a cure - not wanting to take any chances should the disease ever find itself in circulation once again.

"It isn't airborne; the disease can only be transferred through skin absorption, which means it isn't contagious," Percy told his brothers with a lightness atypical to the situation. He was trying to offer them a silver-lining - a glimmer of hope in a very, very ominous cloud.

"They've let her come home, so she doesn't have to be stuck in a ward at St. Mungo's - but they… they're not sure how long she has left."

As it happens, that glimmer of hope wasn't much of a glimmer at all. It was more of a flicker - subtle and barely there. What Percy's words effectively translated to were _"at least she'll be in the comfort of her own home while she dies - slowly and painfully."_

A coldness sank into Fred's stomach upon the realisation. Without another word, the eldest twin stormed passed George - heading straight out of the door, ignorant to the concerned shouts of his three brothers. He only had _one_ destination in mind at that moment.

Asteria shifted her startled gaze to the door as Fred Weasley invited himself into her office. The redhead did not offer her a moment to speak before he cornered her with his stern glare - though it wasn't quite strong enough to hide the devastation in his eyes.

"There's something I need to talk to you about," Fred spoke with a matter of urgency. Asteria narrowed her gaze at his demanding tone - if his blatant disregard for basic manners had not been enough to anger her, the rude way in which he _demanded_ to speak to her definitely was.

Perhaps if he had been more polite she'd have felt more inclined to help him. Though, probably not. She was still Asteria Nott after all, and he was still Fred Weasley ⎯ no matter how distressed and shattered the man currently seemed.

"Well, the moment you have something _I_ want to discuss, then we'll talk," Asteria retorted as she sorted the papers on her desk into the appropriate piles, barely sparing the redhead a second glance. The fact that she was acting as though she had more important things to do than _listen_ to him infuriated Fred.

She certainly wasn't his first choice of help, but whether he liked it or not, she was the only person he knew that _could_ help. Another fact that sent Fred's blood boiling. He seemed to be going to her for quite a few things recently - not that he had really listened to the 'advice' she had offered him the previous night.

"Until then, Weasley, you can wait," Asteria spoke with a tight-lipped smile as she nodded towards her office door. "Though I wouldn't hold out ⎯ it'll be a long time before I ever need something from you."

Fred held his ground ⎯ unperturbed by her efforts to get him to leave. He had more pressing concerns to fret over than the malice laced in her tone. "How about a space large enough to store your healing salve and an extra pair of hands to help you make it?" the redhead retorted with a raised brow.

He knew he'd catch her interest before he'd even spoken the words. After he had run into her the other week, he had begun to notice the witch make more regular trips to Slug and Jiggers Apothecary.

It hadn't taken him long to work out that Asteria only made the potion when it was needed ⎯ which seemed to be a lot more than usual ⎯ meaning the witch either didn't have the resources to batch make it and store it, or simply didn't have enough time to do it all herself.

If he'd have cared enough, Fred would've probably offered her the space when he'd first realised. As it happens, the only reason he was asking her now was because he required her help. Whether either of them liked it or not ⎯ they both had something to offer the other.

Asteria raised a brow as she studied the wizard. He was shifting on his feet ⎯ his hands anxiously shaking at his sides and his eyes, though currently pinning Asteria with an unrelenting glare, were _sad._ He _needed_ her help ⎯ something Asteria would've taken great pleasure in if not for the fact that she also now required his.

"Well, you're hardly the benevolent type, Weasley," Asteria commented with a knowing tone as she leant her elbows against her desk, "what is it you want in return?"

Fred swallowed ⎯ the overwhelming grief he felt, thick in both his throat and eyes, "part of the produce."

Asteria furrowed her brows curiously, "why?"

"That's my business," the redhead snarled with a tone that insisted he wasn't going to explain any further. Asteria knew she'd figure it out one way or another ⎯ there was very little that she didn't know, after all.

The brunette hummed sarcastically, returning to shuffling the files on her desk into their appropriate piles, "I'll think about it." Of course, she didn't have to think about a lot.

Fred was offering her a space to store her healing potions meaning she'd be able to make a lot more than she could currently. She'd never have to worry about Hestia or the others running out, or stress over a cauldron at 3 in the morning because that was the only time she had spare to make it.

And all he wanted in return was a few vials of her potion ⎯ the answer to his offer would've been a no-brainer, had it not been for the fact that it was Fred Weasley who had made it. Asteria had long since learned that anything involving Fred Weasley was not as straightforward as it first seemed.

Given the way he had so harshly snapped at her last night, she was shocked the redhead had even thought to come to her for help in the first place.

Fred scoffed bitterly as he shook his head ⎯ the malice and animosity in his glare almost rendering Asteria breathless. "You know, your whole heartless bitch act is becoming quite old, Nott," the redhead spat with disgust; as though the mere sight of her had caused him physical pain.

He should've known better than to go to her for help ⎯ what did she owe him? Why should she care that his mother was currently laying in a bed ⎯ riddled with a dizzying amount of pain as her body decayed slowly from the inside out?

"It's a wonder you have anyone left to love you," Fred sighed with an atypical disappointment. Why had he even _thought_ the witch would do anything for anyone but herself? And just _why_ was he so disappointed in her for refusing him?

As Fred left her office, in the same manner he had entered it, Asteria watched him in stunned silence. His words, for the first time ever, had made a dent in her armour. And, though she'd sooner die before admitting it aloud, Asteria was _hurt._


	11. accipitur agere

═══════════════════════

 _❝idealism sits in prison, chivalry  
_ _fell on his sword, innocence died  
_ _screaming;_ _honey, ask me, I should know❞_  
━ Hozier, From Eden

  
𝗖𝗛𝗔𝗣𝗧𝗘𝗥 𝗘𝗜𝗚𝗛𝗧 | _**accipitur agere  
**_ [𝘢𝘯 𝘢𝘤𝘤𝘦𝘱𝘵𝘦𝘥 𝘥𝘦𝘢𝘭]

_**in which he is left bewildered** _

═══════════════════════

It had been a week and Fred's conflictingly gracious offer had been the most prominent and recurring thought in Asteria's mind; which of course meant that he had also been a rather perturbing feature in her thoughts by association.

The brunette knew she was being rather foolish by denying him. She _needed_ the space and they both knew it - the only thing that was stopping her from accepting was the fact that it was Fred Weasley who had offered.

The same Fred Weasley that didn't hesitate to make his opinions of her public. His prejudiced views of Slytherins and defected Death Eaters were well known and shared by most within Wizarding Britain.

He didn't trust her, much less like her enough to offer her help - which begs the question of _why_ he'd gone to her in the first place if not to either make a fool of her or find some way to incriminate her.

Asteria realised she was overthinking things and being stupid - she tended to do that a lot after the war, though she could hardly be blamed. It seemed everyone in Wizarding Britain had an ulterior motive nowadays.

Even still, Fred Weasley couldn't be deceptive and manipulative even if he tried - at least, not from what Asteria knew of him. Which, albeit was rather little but still significant enough to prove her point.

Fred may have hated her, but the fact that he was a Gryffindor remained. By very nature, they were reckless and careless - throwing themselves headfirst into a situation without thought of the consequences. They weren't quite sly or patient enough to form elaborate plans to get what they wanted.

Thus, Asteria came to the conclusion that Fred Weasley was _desperate._ The only other reason he would come to her, of all people, for help was if he was in dire need of it - and Salazar did Asteria want to know why.

Each time she had seen him in passing in Diagon Alley this past week - his eyes just a little duller than usual and his typical manner slightly askew - her curiosity burned deeper. Asteria loved having all of the information; knowing things that not everyone else did. It was how she managed to stay a few steps ahead of everyone else.

And Fred Weasley was keeping her in the dark. A fact that both infuriated her and intrigued her, which is why she had been actively seeking him out over the past week - though she'd adamantly deny it if anyone was to catch her out.

Yet, even despite her current stalkerish acts, she'd had to have been blind to not notice the obvious change in the man. Fred had become a lot colder and distant over the course of the past week - as though he was a victim of the Imperius curse.

It certainly shouldn't have bothered her as much as it did, but the sight of seeing either Weasley twin without their usual devilish grins or the mischievous glimmer in their eyes was enough to set even her on edge. It was a sure sign of an apocalypse.

Asteria chalked her stalkerish actions up to concern over the, albeit completely imaginary, impending destruction of all humanity as she leant against the end counter in Hestia's cafe. Her hazelnut coffee had long since gone cold as she stirred it absentmindedly - her gaze and thoughts transfixed solely on the redhead that was across the street.

"He's quite fit," Hestia commented as she joined her sister's side at the counter, her amused gaze following Asteria's line of direction. Though startled by Hestia's appearance, and mildly embarrassed at being caught staring, Asteria rolled her eyes.

"He's a _Weasley,_ " the brunette deadpanned, raising a brow at her sister as she took a sip of her coffee - flinching only slightly as she realised it was cold.

Mistaking her sister's curious gaze as interest, Hestia shrugged with a devious smirk spread across her lips. "My point still stands. Imagine how furiously Father would turn in his grave if he knew you were dating a Weasley," the dark-haired witch commented as she bumped Asteria's hip.

"You do make an appealing point," Asteria smirked as a small chuckle left her lips - the same mischievous glint that appeared in her eye whenever she did something to purposefully spite her father resurfacing. "No matter how pointless it is."

Hestia frowned, her brows furrowed in confusion as she tilted her head, "and why is that?"

"He's _Fred Weasley,_ " Asteria retorted with an expression of disbelief - as though the answer should've been obvious to Hestia without further confirmation. As it was, Hestia didn't seem to have the same knowledge of Fred that Asteria did - they had only been third years when Hestia graduated, after all.

Noticing her sisters obvious confusion, Asteria rolled her eyes, "and he has a girlfriend." Although she wasn't even remotely interested in forming _any_ kind of relationship with Fred Weasley, Asteria was no stranger to her sister's over-imaginative mind.

Hestia was a devoted believer in fate and romance - forever trying to set Asteria up with anyone she considered to be worth a second look. And Fred Weasley was _certainly_ worth a second look.

"A minor flaw," the elder Nott sister shrugged with a smirk - unperturbed by the knowledge she'd just gained and unwilling to let it destroy the fairytale romance she had created in her mind. Asteria rolled her eyes as she stood upright, pointedly looking everywhere _except_ the glass window.

"You've read too many Muggle romance novels, Hestia," Asteria tormented with a knowing look as she passed her sister, walking into the kitchens. "Your head is in the clouds." Hestia huffed obnoxiously in response though followed after her nonetheless.

With Circe back at school and a sudden lull in her workload, Asteria was able to fulfil her promise of helping Hestia out at the cafe. It was relatively quiet that morning, with only the usual regulars filling the booths - though there was no doubt the small space would quickly become crowded as the hours passed.

"He offered me a space to store a large batch of healing potion the other day," Asteria stated casually as she placed her mug in the sink. With a subtle flick of her wand, the dishes began to clean themselves - a soft clinking filling the air as Hestia leant against the back table, a devious smirk curled at her lips.

"What did he ask for in return?" the dark-haired witch inquired, her tone laced with torment and teasing as she eyed her younger sister. "A kiss? A _date?"_

"A couple vials of the healing salve," Asteria deadpanned, firmly squashing Hestia's hyperactive imagination with an abrupt definitiveness.

Hestia frowned, seemingly disappointed with the answer. "Perhaps he's shy," the witch commented under her breath, as though she was speaking to herself rather than Asteria - who of course, still heard her and rolled her eyes rather dramatically in response.

"I take it you accepted," Hestia concluded with a tone of certainty that quickly diminished upon the sight of Asteria's nervous expression. The elder Nott sister scoffed in frustration as she realised Asteria had in fact done quite the opposite. "Asteria, why in Salazar's name not?"

Once again, Asteria looked back at her sister as though she had three heads, "he's _Fred Weasley."_

Hestia tilted her head curiously, "that seems to be the common excuse," the witch realised with a raised brow. Asteria scoffed dryly, "believe me, if you knew him, you'd know it was a good one," she retorted in her own defence - her tone gruff and angry.

Her words were ironic, really, for she didn't really know him herself. Other than the few tense encounters they'd had - which, to credit her, had all been rather enlightening in their own way - Asteria didn't know Fred any deeper than surface level.

The man had successfully built a guard around himself - a trait that was both incredibly Slytherin and typically associated with Pureblood elitists. Both of which Fred rather ironically despised.

"You want so badly for the world to change its opinion when you're so hesitant to change your own," Hestia remarked with a sad, almost disappointed, smile as she watched her sister potter angrily around the kitchen.

"It's not my opinion that needs to be changed," Asteria retorted with a tone and expression that emphasised her obvious offence. The brunette aimed her wand at the sink once again, watching as the now clean dishes began to return to their appropriate places.

With her jaw clenched and a vicious scowl etched upon her face that only seemed to appear when Fred Weasley was mentioned, Asteria began to clean the countertops by hand. "He is the most infuriatingly judgemental man I have ever met."

Hestia watched her curiously as she paced around the room, seemingly in her own world. It was glaringly obvious that there was some tension between Asteria and Fred - though what that tension accumulated of, Hestia wasn't quite certain.

Maybe she was just optimistic - or, rather a hopeless romantic - but she had always believed there to be a very thin line between love and hate.

Of course, this wasn't a fairytale, this was reality. A very ominous reality which just so happened to feature an acclaimed War Hero who was still stuck very much in the past and a defected Death Eater who was far too hesitant to live in the present. Oh, and they also despised each other.

Optimistic. Hestia was definitely optimistic - if not a little naive.

"Then why not show him how wrong he is by helping him?" Hestia inquired, folding her arms over her chest as she watched her sister curiously.

Asteria stood still, a frown etched on her face as she turned back to face Hestia, "because I don't need _his_ validation of my character."

"Perhaps not," Hestia smiled, proud that Asteria was independent enough to not need the opinion of _anyone_ to define her. After the toxic childhood they had experienced, one of Hestia's constant fears was that her siblings would look for an appraisal from others just as they had once from their father.

It was gratifying to know that even despite their controlling father and harrowing childhood, the Nott siblings - if not a little flawed - were able to build their own lives. Hestia's fear now centred on the belief that Asteria may become too closed off - too distant and untrusting; _heartless._

"But you do need your own and refusing someone help out of spite only proves what he thinks he already knows about you," Hestia stated with the same mothering tone Asteria had become greatly familiar - and substantially annoyed - with growing up.

Asteria raised a brow at her elder sister, insisting she got to her point as Hestia simply smirked knowing she had gotten into her head. "The question is, Asteria, do you want to give him the satisfaction of proving him right or do you want to metaphorically blow his judgemental mind?"

A heavy sigh escaped Asteria's lips as she narrowed her eyes at her sister whose shit-eating grin was alarmingly arrogant, "I hate it when you're right."

Hestia simply shrugged - the wicked grin on her face displaying her delight as she watched Asteria remove her apron. "Put the scowl away, Asteria," the dark-haired witch teased with mirth as Asteria continued to pout, "you're supposed to be offering him help, not scaring him off."

Asteria scoffed as she made her way out of the kitchens, the sound of Hestia's harmonious laughter following after her. The witch wasn't quite certain anything _could_ scare Fred Weasley, least of all her scowl - Merlin knew he had been faced with it more than most.

It didn't take Asteria long to find the redhead as she left the cafe, spotting him just a little further down the street outside Potage's Cauldron Shop. Instead of his usual flamboyantly coloured dragon skin suits, Fred adorned a casual black one - which although fitted him exquisitely, certainly did not match his usual character.

"I'll help you," Asteria stated without even so much as a hello as she stopped beside the redhead, her eyes narrowed up at him in a hostile manner despite her seemingly gracious words. Fred turned in her direction, a smirk curling at his lips - though it didn't quite reach his eyes as it used to.

To say he was surprised to even be approached by her - least of all have her agree to help him - was a severe understatement, though he hid it well. " _The_ Asteria Nott has decided to help someone _other_ than herself?" Fred remarked sarcastically, his tone lacking its usual bite - not that Asteria cared to notice.

"I'm holding out an olive branch here," Asteria hissed with a venomous glare locked on Fred, "take it or watch it burn, Weasley."

Fred held her gaze - unperturbed by her viciousness as he weighed up his options. He was hesitant to trust her; which was understandable given _who_ she was. But the fact that he needed help and she was the only one that could offer it still remained.

"Right. Meet me outside the joke shop at seven," Fred stated in a dismissive tone, saying all he had needed to as he returned to shopping. Asteria stood frozen in a state of shock at his impertinence, questioning his nerve and audacity.

The fact that he had turned his back on her so quickly after she had offered to help him caused the hair on her arms to stand on end - her blood rushing just a little too quickly around her body to make up for the anger that seemed to be burning within her.

"Bold of you to assume that I don't already have plans tonight," Asteria remarked with a raised brow - continuing the conversation purely to deny Fred the satisfaction of having the last word.

Fred smirked as he continued to look at the shop's products, otherwise ignoring Asteria's presence completely, "bold of you to assume that I care." Asteria was furious, and Fred knew it.

It was as though they were playing a game of cat and mouse - both of them pushing just a little further each time to see who would inevitably snap first. And just who would gain the satisfaction of knowing they had successfully managed to take the other down.

At the moment, they were on even ground but Fred was tipped to come out on top during this particular encounter - and if there was one thing Asteria Nott didn't do, it was lose. With a set jaw and a vicious glare in her eyes, Asteria wrapped her hand around Fred's arms - pretending not to notice the way his muscles flexed under her touch as she forced him to stop.

"Look, Weasley," Asteria snarled venomously, her anger reaching a boiling point as she forced Fred to pay attention to her, "I'm doing this for _your_ benefit, not mine."

Fred raised a brow, looking down at the hand that was still holding his bicep before looking back at Asteria with his typical arrogant smirk. The brunette faltered, dropping her hand as though his touch had burned her - though she still stood rooted firmly in her place, refusing to back down.

"The Asteria Nott that I know doesn't do anything unless for the benefit of herself," Fred remarked with an expression etched upon his face that insinuated he knew her. Which of course, he _didn't_ \- not really.

The pair stood inches apart - their angered, shallow breaths fanning around each other; their chests one erratic inhale away from touching - not that either of them had cared to notice. The brutal staring competition they were currently involved in was taking up all of their attention, neither one willing to back down from the challenge.

They had become ignorant to the chatter of Diagon Alley; the loud voices and screeching of animals had faded into the background leaving them incognizant to anything other than each other.

"Well then, perhaps you don't know her as well as you think you do," Asteria scowled as her narrowed eyes bore into his. She was pissed. Pissed at him for his judgemental opinions and his _audacity_ to even _think_ he knew anything about her.

Pissed at herself for letting Fred _fucking_ Weasley get under her skin _again_ and allowing him the satisfaction of knowing he had beaten her. Here she was, offering him her time, and he acted as though he wasn't even the slightest bit grateful.

She didn't deny that she probably deserved it - she had done the same thing to him only last week after all. But the fact that he had managed to flip the tables on her so effortlessly left an acidic taste in her mouth; a pill too bitter to swallow.

"I think I've got a pretty good idea," Fred commented with a smirk as his eyes subtly trailed the length of Asteria's figure - though, it happened so quickly she wasn't sure whether it had actually happened or if it was simply a figment of her imagination. "See you at seven, Nott."

Asteria stood in stunned silence as she watched Fred walk away from her - his usual arrogant strut returning to his walk as he headed in the direction of the joke shop. Her mind was reeling as she noticed his mood suddenly increase; as though he had expected her to find him and admit defeat.

The witch was in utter disbelief - both shocked and infuriated that Fred Weasley had managed to play her so perfectly. Fred grinned as he sent a subtle look over his shoulder, seeing Asteria stood dumbfounded. Perhaps he was more Slytherin than he cared to admit - either way he didn't care. He had gotten what he wanted; who cares about the manner in which he had achieved it.

With a burning hatred - and an infuriating newfound respect - for Fred Weasley, Asteria made her way back into the cafe; questioning what the hell she'd just gotten herself into and whether it was worth the damage it would no doubt inflict on her mental health.

And though she wasn't aware of it just yet, the answer was a definitive yes.

* * *

It was fifteen minutes past seven when Asteria finally showed up in the alley beside Weasley's Wizard Wheezes. The light reflecting from the candlelit street lights bounced perfectly off of Fred's features, illuminating his irritated scowl as he leant against the stonewall of the joke shop.

"You're late," the redhead remarked as he stood upright, his tone and body language clearly insinuating that he was annoyed by her tardiness. Asteria obviously took that as a win as she smirked arrogantly, sauntering into the alley to meet him.

"In my defence, I did try to tell you I had plans," the witch shrugged carelessly - unperturbed by his irritation.

Her words weren't _technically_ a lie, either. Whilst she didn't have plans per se, she had been busy for the past three hours trying to get Circe to do her homework and bathe - Winnie would've let her get away with both had she been given the chance - whilst Hestia finished up in the Cafe.

One wouldn't expect the task to be that difficult save for the fact that Circe adamantly despised school work and was currently going through a phase where cleanliness was not a priority. (She claimed it kept all the _'weird boys'_ away from her.)

"I still don't care," Fred remarked as he took a step towards her - a harshness in his eyes that threatened to cut through Asteria's carefully crafted armour.

Asteria wasn't quite sure what had put him in such a foul mood but she was beginning to regret ever offering him help in the first place. It was no secret they didn't get along - they could barely stand the sight of one another - but she had hoped they could be mature enough to limit their vicious banter at least enough to get something beneficial out of their arrangement.

"Shall we get going then?" Asteria huffed in annoyance - her jaw clenched and teeth grinding in an attempt to simmer her anger. "I'd rather spend as limited time as possible suffering in your company."

Fred scoffed dryly, "the feelings mutual, Nott, believe me." Now stood just in front of her, Fred held his arm out for her to place her hand in - looking at her expectantly when she refused to move.

Asteria eyed his outstretched arm with furrowed brows as she scrunched her nose up in a mixture of shock and disgust. "Uh, I'm not sure what you thought this was Weasley, but it certainly isn't _that._ "

The last thing she needed was for him to think her offer of help was anything more than a mutual transaction that was beneficial for them both. Hestia's hyperactive mind would run wild if she caught sight of them both stood in a dark alley with Fred offering Asteria his arm.

"You really are quite dense, aren't you, Nott," Fred quipped with an amused smirk as he realised what she _thought_ he was insinuating. "Side-along Apparition requires physical contact," the redhead drawled slowly in a patronising manner - watching with great amusement as Asteria became flustered.

It was then that she realised she had spent too much time around Hestia and her cursed Muggle romance novels - his gesture now making perfect sense. As she had never been to the location they were headed to or had any idea where it was, she couldn't Apparate there herself.

She adamantly decided that whoever had come up with the laws of Apparition were idiotic and completely to blame for her current flustered state.

"You could've just said that," Asteria huffed in annoyance as she took his arm rather reluctantly - thankful for the limited light that shielded her flushed cheeks. Though it apparently didn't do as good of a job as she first thought.

"And risk never seeing you so flustered?" Fred teased as he tilted his head to look down at her with an arrogant smirk stretched upon his lips. "Really, I'm flattered, Nott - but snake isn't really my type."

He didn't give her a chance to reply or a second moment to think about the close proximity of their bodies as he Apparated them out of Diagon Alley without a hint of warning.

Apparition certainly wasn't Asteria's preferred mode of travel - though it definitely beat travel by Portkey. The brunette grimaced as she felt the familiar, and rather uncomfortable, pull and tug of their bodies literally transporting themselves to a different location before finding herself standing on solid ground not even a moment later.

Asteria groaned in discomfort, gripping her head tightly as though to ease the inevitable headache she always seemed to get after Apparating anywhere. Fred eyed her in amusement - his manner much more relaxed than hers, "alright there, Nott?"

The witch clenched her jaw at his teasing, otherwise ignoring him as she focused her attention on the medium-sized factory in front of them.

They were stood on a paved street opposite what looked like a plot of Muggle factories. Fred and George's (signified by the large, luminescent 'Mischief Makers' sign on the front) was the largest, and most flamboyant - capturing the attention of the entire lot.

The subtle glimmer of the wards surrounding the entire building were enough to tell her the factory was hidden from Muggle view. Knowing Fred and George, there were also probably a few charms placed around the building that jinxed any intruders.

"I see you Weasley's are doing a lot better for yourselves this side of the war," Asteria commented as she followed Fred into the factory, looking around the large space with interest.

She ran her hand over the wooden worktops, noticing how they lined the entire back wall before cornering onto the left. Opposite them were two large storage cupboards; one filled with dozens of boxes stacked high to the ceiling, and one empty.

Cauldrons, both made of pewter and iron, were kept on a shelf against the right wall - some quite evidently a lot more used than others. Candles lit the entire space creating a warm glow that buzzed with magic and a subtle hint of excitement one only got when creating wild, joyful prank products.

"Well, we aren't all born into ancient wealth - some of us work hard for what we have," Fred remarked bluntly as he folded his arms across his chest - his tall frame leant against the wall as he watched Asteria wearily.

The twins - with the great advice of Verity - had bought the warehouse to store the excess stock that couldn't be kept in the joke shop and the various projects that were currently in the middle of production. It was also now used as the base for their new delivery service - another great idea of Verity's that was currently in its first stages of production.

The space was a reflection of their business expanding and Fred and George couldn't have been more proud of what they had achieved - which is why Fred had taken such an offence to Asteria's comment.

Asteria stopped in place, turning to shoot the redhead a glare over her shoulder, "you know, the sooner you stop making assumptions about me, Weasley, the easier it'll be for us to work together."

The fact that she was being hypocritical wasn't missed on her - she had based her own opinions of him based purely on assumption and his animosity, but her point still stood. They weren't going to achieve anything if they could barely even speak to one another without spitting an insult.

"Well, you don't exactly inspire great teamwork, Nott," Fred scoffed as he raised a brow at the witch. Asteria exaggeratedly rolled her eyes as she turned to face him completely, folding her arms across her chest as she pinned him with a threatening glare.

"I'm not asking you to like me - contrary to your rather astounding arrogance, your opinions of me are rather inconsequential," Asteria affirmed sassily causing Fred to huff as he stood upright and dropped his arms - his current scowl bearing resemblance to a pouting toddler.

"However, as much as we both despise the fact, we require each other's assistance," she reminded him pointedly - the words feeling foreign in her throat. "So, if you want a healing solution that works, you're gonna have to lose a bit of the judgement and spite."

As much as it pained him to admit, he knew she was right. There was no way they'd ever achieve anything if they were constantly at each other's throats. And, as much satisfaction he gained from seeing Asteria so riled up and angry - he had other, more pressing, matters to concern himself with.

"Fine," Fred spoke through gritted teeth - finding having to admit that she was right just a little too hard df a pill to swallow.

"But don't think any of this means that I trust you," the redhead stated firmly - his tone venomous and equally as deadly as his narrowed glare - "as far as I'm concerned, you're the reason we're in this mess to begin with."

His words weren't fair and his blame was majorly displaced - he had recognised that the moment he had spoken them. She hadn't been the one to poison his mother, but it was a disease created by Death Eaters and she just so happened to be the only Death Eater around that he _could_ blame.

To blame a whole group based on the bad judgement of a few of its people was ridiculous and could have potentially devastating effects - he knew that too. But Fred had met _many_ Death Eaters in his lifetime and they had all been exactly the same. Evil. Manipulative. And Destructive. What made Asteria any different?

His words had stung her for a different reason entirely. She was unperturbed by the fact that he blamed her for his current issues - he always seemed to find some reason or other to make everything her fault - but whilst they were not true to his current predicament, it didn't mean they didn't hold _any_ truth.

For years, the reminder of her cowardice and weakness had burrowed its way into the darkest parts of her thoughts - tormenting her with unrelenting malice. Perhaps if she had been just a little braver - if she hadn't been so much of a failure, Hestia and Theo (Salazar, especially Theo) wouldn't have to live with so much pain.

It had been her job to protect them - to protect Circe, and she had failed them all. Fred was right, even if hadn't truly known or meant it, she _was_ the reason they were all in this mess. The reminder had left her frozen in place - her eyes vacant and almost pained.

It was the most vulnerable Fred had seen her as he watched her from across the room - his scowl slowly forming into an expression of intrigue. His words had quite clearly affected her, just not in the manner he had expected them to. He wasn't quite sure if he regretted them, but he was beginning to think he should.

"I'll stop by Slug and Jiggers first thing in the morning - we can start tomorrow evening," Asteria planned aloud; her tone distracted and distant as Fred continued to eye her curiously. He had expected her to lash out at him - for her to bite back with her usual vigour. He certainly hadn't expected for her to just roll over and accept what he'd said.

Pushing his curiosity to the back of his mind, Fred focused back on the current conversation, "I have plans with Angelina tomorrow night." Though, if he had the option to cancel them, he would've gladly done so.

Over the past week, Fred's mind had been preoccupied with his mother and her deteriorating health meaning he had managed to escape Angelina's interrogation about why he didn't want to move in together. His luck had unfortunately ran out yesterday morning when his girlfriend told his _dying_ mother that he was avoiding her and now he had no other choice but to talk to her.

The fact that he was so hesitant to go out with his _girlfriend_ should've been enough indication that he needed to end their relationship - but he couldn't. Everything was changing so quickly around him that he felt by letting go of Angelina, he was cutting the ties to the last remaining thing that was still the same.

It wasn't fair to either of them and he knew that. He knew a lot of things. He was just too selfish to act on most of them.

"Salazar, you Gryffindor's really don't know when to quit do you," Asteria smirked - her teasing light and amusing rather than vicious and cruel. _A change: subtle, but there._ She wasn't naive enough to believe Fred would listen to a word of the advice she had offered him the other week - in fact, she had expected him to do the very opposite of what she had said.

Fred stared at her unamused - the discussion of his failing relationship not one he wanted to repeat with Asteria. Realising she wasn't going to get any humour from him, Asteria rolled her eyes, "fine, I'll do it myself. You not being here might actually help my mental stability."

"I'm not quite certain _anything_ can help it," Fred teased with a devilish smirk, earning a nasty look from Asteria in response. "Don't fret, Nott, I heard the Janus Thickey Ward at St. Mungo's is rather comforting."

"You're the most infuriating man I've ever met, Weasley," Asteria huffed in annoyance as she fixed the buttons on her jacket, readying herself to leave - there wasn't much they could do without the ingredients.

Fred _grinned_ \- not smirked, _grinned_ \- at her words as though he had received a compliment, "I try my best." The sight of his smile had left Asteria paralysed with shock. Fred used his smirk as though it was a weapon - cruel and tormenting, just as Asteria used her glare.

It was like a piece of armour - a way to stop people from seeing your true emotions. His grin felt so completely displaced within her company and Asteria didn't know what to make of it.

"Hey - uh, do you think the healing potion would work on someone with Doxy Disease?" Fred spoke up suddenly, forcing Asteria out of her head and back into the real world. His tone was almost hesitant as he rubbed the back of his neck, looking everywhere _except_ Asteria as though he was scared she'd be able to see right through him.

Asteria frowned, her brows furrowed as she tried to redirect her mind to think about his question and not his infuriatingly charming smile. "I-I don't know," she stuttered, still a little flustered by the change in Fred's dynamic.

"It's a form of blood-poison, isn't it? So I guess it could work. It won't cure it but it should help to slow the effects down and ease the pain," Asteria explained, recalling everything she could remember about the disease as she eyed him curiously.

His reason for offering her help became clear then - someone he knew had somehow contracted Doxy Disease. A blood-poison that was fatal and incurable, though could be managed and eased with the right potion - a potion she just so happened to know how to make.

Asteria wasn't sure why she felt so guilty at that moment. Perhaps it was because it was a disease created by Death Eaters and she had once - albeit, unwillingly - been a part of them, or maybe it was the fact that even with her healing solution, Fred would not be able to cure whoever it was that needed it.

"Right," Fred nodded absentmindedly - his tone and eyes saddened, as though the confirmation he'd just been given had quenched all his previous hopes. Asteria watched him empathetically - it was atypical, especially considering their relationship, but she knew first hand just how cruel of a disease Doxy Disease was.

She wouldn't wish the agony and suffering that it caused on anyone. Upon noticing her gaze, Fred's jaw locked - his walls rebuilding themselves to shield his vulnerability. "I'll stop by later tomorrow to make sure you haven't burnt this place to the ground. You good getting back?"

Asteria rolled her eyes with a huff, "I've Apparated before, Weasley. I'm sure I'll manage."

Fred smirked upon recalling how clumsy she had been when they had Apparated earlier. He didn't imagine there were many things Asteria Nott didn't excel in, but Apparition was certainly one.

"See you later then, Nott," the redhead replied with a tone that sounded almost friendly, leaving Asteria both confused and mildly discomforted as he Apparated out of the warehouse.

In an effort to not let her mind get ahead of her as it had earlier, Asteria concluded Fred must have been truly desperate if he had heeded her previous words about being a little kinder to each other so quickly.

In truth, Fred wasn't sure what had possessed him to act in such a manner. Perhaps it was the sight of seeing her so sad and conflicted earlier that had pushed at his reckless desire to know everything about everyone. She had definitely intrigued him - for what reason, he wasn't quite sure yet.

He shouldn't have cared; he knew that. But she was hiding something, and that made her vulnerable - and Merlin, did he want to know what it was. He should have known to leave well enough alone, but he never had been able to quench that burning spirit of inquiry; even if his mother had taught him better.

Who would have thought that, that _one_ smile - that one, manipulated act of kindness - would have been the spark that ignited the fire that drew them together.


End file.
